


My Dreams Aren't As Empty

by incredibly_cold



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gun Violence, I'll tag other things as they come up, Juvy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Prison, Sensory Overload, Violence, coldwave, criminal activity, no one from any of the shows though, skips forward but always in chronological order, some bad 80s hair, teenage mick and len, this takes place over the couse of their partnership, young mick and len
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9842597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incredibly_cold/pseuds/incredibly_cold
Summary: When the oculus blew, Len thought he would be dead. He didn't really mind it though. Mick had made his life better in every way, and in return he'd done the exact opposite. In 30 years, he'd been the cause of just about every bad thing that happened to Mick. After all that, he deserved the chance to live without Len. What he didn't expect was to wind up back in 1986, watching himself almost die and seeing Mick save him.Basically just a trip through Len's life starting from the day he met Mick. It'll jump around a lot.





	1. Shiv

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in July of 1987. Leonard is 15, Mick is 16.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in March of 1987. Leonard is 14, Mick is 16. Terry Wilkins is 17.

After years of thievery, Leonard Snart had finally gotten himself caught and landed in Juvy. In a way, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe it was better that he was still underage, since his sentence would be more lenient, and it wouldn’t end up on his permanent record. It was just bizarre to think he would get caught for robbery when that was what he’d been doing for most of his life, and nothing had happened yet. Sure, he was only fourteen, but his dad liked to take him on jobs. He had little hands, and he could be useful.

Ever since the police had pulled up on him, he’d been thinking about what he’d done wrong to get himself caught, and how he could do better next time. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn’t his fault at all, it was his father’s. In fact, he’d done a pretty great job making sure he was the only one who got in trouble. It would have seemed unlikely that a fourteen year old had been robbing a jewelry store alone, but he also knew there’d be hell to pay if he got his dad caught. Once he knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of there in time, he messed shit up, intentionally. Made it look sloppy. When they’d caught him, they assumed it was a crappy, overconfident first attempt. Lewis walked free, with only the shame of his son being a robber. Of course, it was completely his fault for driving away before Len could get in the car, but he would never admit to that.

Here he was, first day of his sentence, hoping that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, since it was all kids. Nothing ever went well for him. Almost as soon as he’d gotten through intake, he was being beaten senseless by a bunch of his fellow inmates. He hardly even had the chance to say anything rude to them yet. For some reason they felt the need to team up on him even though he was barely five feet tall, and scrawny to boot. Realistically, he wouldn’t have been able to defend himself against two of them, even though he had some grasp on how to fight. Maybe not even one of them, since they’d jumped on him so suddenly. They’d started with a punch to the gut and a knee to the forehead when he’d doubled over. Now he felt sluggish and fuzzy. He wasn’t even sure how many of them there were, what with their constant moving, and all the pain he was in. Probably six or seven.

Fortunately, Leonard could take a beating. He’d gotten plenty of practice ever since his dad got out of prison, and once it had become clear he wasn’t going to be winning or getting away, he knew it was best to just curl up in a ball and tried to protect his stomach. Bruises would heal pretty easily, internal injuries were a bigger problem. For a minute he thought he would be fine, if he could wait until they felt their point had been made. That went out the window pretty quickly as they gave up on hitting and kicking him and pulled his arms and legs out and held him like that, exposed to their attacks. That’s when one of them pulled out a shiv, and then he knew he was in more trouble than he’d thought.

He wasn’t a complete stranger to being cut in a fight. His father had come after him with glass bottles before, and done his fair share of damage. He had the scars to prove it. This was different though, his dad had never gone for his throat. He wanted to hurt him, not kill him. These boys didn’t seem to share that.

He tried one last time to get free from their grip, but it was hopeless. There was just too many of them. Seven, to be exact. He could count them, now that they were holding still. They held him, two to each leg and one to each arm. Of course they had him up in the air too, instead of pinning him to the ground, which meant he couldn’t even get any leverage. The last of his attackers stood above his head with the shiv, clearly enjoying the fear in his eyes.

It was noticing that manic glee which made him calm down and stop struggling. He wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction of seeing him panic. Maybe they could kill him, but he wasn’t going to let anyone have control over his final moments. He raised his chin and glared up at them all, daring them to go through with it.

Then it happened. He was suddenly aware that the loud thumping in his ears wasn’t his heart pounding, it was the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. And then there was an awful cracking noise, and the boy with the shiv was falling. The other boys dropped him and he fell, unfortunately catching most of his weight on one elbow and sending shockwaves of pain up and down his arm. From his vantage point on the ground, he couldn’t see much. Only that whoever was interfering was huge and muscular, and had a black mullet. He didn’t get the chance to register anything else before he felt a crushing weight on his hand and heard bones snap as it was stepped on. Maybe he wasn’t about to get stabbed anymore, but the ground was still far from safe. He tried to get up, but there wasn’t room to move around much in all the commotion, and as soon as he’d rolled onto his stomach to push himself up, he felt a heavy weight on his ribs. Probably a knee, he figured, of someone else going down at the hands of this mystery person who was saving him. He was pretty sure at least one of them was broken now as well.

Three of his attackers were on the ground with him, probably unconscious, and the other four had done the wise thing and run away. Leonard wasn’t sure if he should still be afraid or not. After all, the kid wasn’t saving him because they were friends, so unless he happened to be a very kindly juvenile delinquent, he probably wanted something. Maybe he was in even more danger now. When a face bent down over him and a hand reached out, he flinched away from it on instinct.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid.” The other boy, who was definitely older, reassured him. He had a surprisingly deep voice, and he said it in a gruff way that didn’t make Leonard more inclined to trust him.

Looking around at the boys on the ground with him, he decided it was probably best not to make him angry, so he let the other boy help him up using his good hand. He kept the injured hand close to his chest. “Who are you?” He wheezed. He still hadn’t really recovered from being punched in the gut, and now there was the matter of his ribs, which at the very least were bruised. Breathing and talking were much more difficult than normal.

He never really got an answer, because after about two seconds of standing on his own, he collapsed. Well, almost collapsed. He was surprised when a pair of thick arms caught him and held him against his chest. He heard the deep, rumbling “Oh shit,” and felt the voice reverberating through his head. He was vaguely aware that he was probably getting blood and drool on this guy’s shirt.

“Hit my head.” He supplied, helpfully. At this point, there wasn’t any sense trying to seem better off than he was. After all, between being able to feel the size and strength of him and seeing him singlehandedly take on seven guys and win, Leonard knew that there was nothing he’d be able to do if the guy wanted to hurt him. He just had to hope for the best. Maybe he was going to be helpful and take him to the infirmary.

Before he knew it, he was being swept off his feet and rushed down the hall. Of course, it was his first day here, and he had a head injury to boot, so he had no clue where they were going. The spot where they had been before was apparently a fine spot to try to kill a person, so he doubted they were going somewhere more private. That was a good sign. If the boy wanted to hurt him he probably would have just stayed where they were.

Leonard felt himself bounce slightly with each step and squinted up at the fluorescent lights as they passed by. He quickly learned that was a bad idea when a wave of vertigo swept over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold back the vomit rising in the back of his throat. He couldn’t puke all over the person who seemed to be rescuing him, that was just a bad idea if he didn’t want to get dropped and left.

He swallowed hard a few times before he realized that it was hopeless and did his best to twist and push away from this older boy so that he wouldn’t actually throw up _on_ him. He might have succeeded if this guy didn’t try to grab him to keep him from falling. He had minimized the damage, but unfortunately there was still vomit all over the boy’s right shoe.

They didn’t run far after that before they stopped, and there was a lot of talking. He didn’t pay much attention once he’d figured out that he was indeed at the infirmary. There was a nurse who said something about Mick, and he figured that was either the person helping him or the one with the shiv. It didn’t much matter to him. Not when she was feeling his injured hand, bending the fingers. He’d been through worse, but it was still agony.

The nurse got him to sit and started testing his coordination, which meant she thought he had a concussion. She was probably right. At some point Mick (he was just going to assume that was his name unless someone said otherwise) left, and he was alone with the doctors, who kept asking who did this to him, like he knew who anyone was on his first day. Whatever, it didn’t matter. Even if he did know who they were, he wouldn’t tell them. He was a lot of things, but a snitch wasn’t one of them.

* * *

 

It took two days for them to release him, not because he was too badly hurt, but because if someone had it out for him they didn’t want them banging his head around again. Leonard thought that if that were the case they should have kept him longer, but he understood that there were limitations for what they could and couldn’t do.  

Being the new inmate with a broken hand and bruises all over his face was sure to be getting him a name. He could see the questions on the faces of everyone who walked by. He didn’t mind though. There was nothing wrong with being the tough kid, and since he’d obviously made it out of the fight alive, there was no reason for anyone to think he’d lost. His broken hand could’ve easily been from hitting someone, and he doubted his attackers had been spreading the story of how a single guy had beaten all seven of them, so he was safe from people knowing that much. All he had to do was make sure he didn’t do anything to damage their image of him.

He was good at pretending, never gave anyone a reason to doubt him. The only problem was that now he had a fellow inmate who he owed a favor. A big favor, if this Mick guy had any sense. It wasn’t like he’d never owed favors before, but never one of this weight, and not in a situation like this. He had no idea how things worked around here or who he was going to want to be on good terms with. Owing a favor before he knew what that might entail was a problem.

He didn’t see Mick until lunch. It would have been hard to miss him, since he was at least six feet tall, more muscular than anyone else there, and had a distinctly bad haircut. He looked like he could have been 20. Leonard figured either he was too young to be tried as an adult, or his crime had been minor, if he was in juvy looking like that. A jury wouldn’t have been sympathetic to someone as big and mean looking as him.

It was difficult to come up with a good idea of what kind of person he was with the information he had. Presumably it was a nonviolent crime, and yet he clearly knew enough about beating the shit out of someone to take on seven guys at once. That wasn’t something that came without practice. And why had the other four boys been so quick to run? With all of them together, they should have been able to overtake him. That meant he had a reputation for hurting people. So why was a violent person with a reputation running around saving people? Len had a hard time believing that it was because he was such a good guy.

At lunch, he intentionally waited around the edges of the room for him to sit down, and then went to his table.This would be the most effective test. If he was friendly, great. If he wasn’t, then at least he would have a starting point to figure out what was going on.

At the sound of the new lunch tray being set down, Mick looked up. He didn’t look either angry or happy. Maybe confused, or a little annoyed. “Why are you here?” He asked, in his deep, menacing voice. Looked like friendly was off the table, though he wasn’t quite at hostile yet either.

“You got some free seats, thought I might as well join you.” He sounded confident, even though he wasn’t.  He did have some practice with that, after all, and it wouldn’t do to be sounding nervous right now.

Mick grunted in acknowledgement and looked at him for  while. “If this is about me saving you, then cool your jets. It had nothing to do with you. I wanted to fight someone and I thought I’d get in less trouble if I was saving someone while doing it.”  he said after a few moments.

Len nodded. “Were you right? About not getting in trouble, I mean. Were they more thankful that you’d saved me?”

“Yeah, hardly yelled at me at all,” he grinned at him for a minute, but stopped when the smile wasn’t returned. “So you're okay now? Looked pretty shitty when I took you in.”

Len smirked and held up his bandaged left hand. “Looks like I’ll be losing some finger dexterity, but I guess it’s better than being in the ground.” He wouldn’t admit that it actually terrified him, because picking locks required a lot of finger dexterity, and he didn’t know what his dad would do if he came back from juvy without his one important skill. He might end up in the ground anyway.

The older boy was staring at him blankly. “Finger dexterity?”

“Yeah. You know, like how well you can move your fingers.” He tried to make his smile look more genuine this time, but he knew it wasn’t really his strong suit.

“That important to you?” That was very perceptive of him. “Do you play piano or something?”

“I’m a thief, actually. Pickpocketing, picking locks, you name it. All of them take nimble fingers.” He twirled his plastic spoon in his right hand, as if to demonstrate. Telling him about what he did was a calculated move. If he was going to owe a favor, he’d rather it be something he was good at.  “Anyway, I’ve been rude. I’m Leonard Snart. And your name is Mick, right?”

“Yeah…” He frowned harder at Len, clearly confused. “You know my name?”

“Heard the nurse say it when you brought me to the infirmary. I assumed it was you.”

“Right.” He nodded, and went back to eating his food. It was kind of gross, watching him eat. There was no way he was spending enough time chewing his food, if he was even chewing it at all. Len did his best to eat too, instead of sitting there like a weirdo, but before he’d even finished a quarter of his food, Mick was done and looking at him. “Look kid,” he started, “I don’t know what you think there is between us, but we aren’t friends now. I got to fight, and that’s it. I don’t need you hanging around me.”

“Yeah, well you need something. Everyone does. I wouldn’t mind some protection, myself.” He wasn’t really planning on this, but even after a short conversation, he didn’t think Mick was going to try to exploit him. He seemed dumb. Or maybe not _dumb_ , just clearly not up for the kind of scheming that would make the favor troublesome. He was more straightforward.

Which is why he was taking the offer wrong. “I’m glad you’re thankful and all, but I ain't into that, Snart.”

He fought off the irritation rising inside him. “That’s not what I meant. My specialty is stealing. Money, jewelry, cigarettes, I don’t know what you want, but I’d be willing to bet I can find it for you.” He smirked. “For a price.”

“So you’ll steal me whatever I want, and I, what? Beat people up when they try to mess with you?” Mick sounded surprised by the proposition. “What do you think you’re going to be getting so much trouble about?”

“Let’s just say I have an abrasive personality and leave it at that.” Len sighed.

Mick nodded. “And the other day, that made you realize that a skinny punk kid like you can’t defend yourself?”

Maybe he wasn’t a manipulative genius, but he certainly didn’t mind insulting people. Of course he wouldn’t, if he was so eager to beat them up. The younger boy glared at him. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, hate to break it to you, but I don’t work with other people. If you stay out of my way, I won’t hurt you, and that’s as good as it’s going to get.”

Leonard knew better. He’d figure out a way to convince him, all he had to do was find the right bait. He just smirked up at the other boy. “We’ll see.”


	2. Ignition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len was a stubborn bastard, and he knew it. Mick didn't want to be his bodyguard, so what? One way or another he was going to get what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in March of 1987. Leonard is 14, Mick is 16. Terry Wilkins is 17.

Sticking to Mick’s side wasn’t hard. Despite all the big talk and his obvious skill in a fight, he didn’t seem all that excited at the prospect of making Len his punching bag. Maybe it was just because he was so scrawny and weak that there wouldn’t be anything to be proud of, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had saved his life, and hurting him now would mean it had been a waste of his time. Either way, it was nice, because getting beaten to a pulp again didn’t sound too great. 

Even without having a real agreement, being in such close proximity to the boy who was probably the most feared person in here, meant that people didn’t try picking on him. The couple of times that someone gave him a mean look, Mick would look over, and without so much as a glare or a threat, they would stop. Len wished he had the power to instill that kind of fear. 

After a few days, Mick’s number of irritated growls directed at Len started to go down. It seemed like he was grudgingly accepting their forced partnership. Not that Len would have really called what they had a partnership, but he couldn’t think of any word that better suited their situation, since he wasn’t an officially hired bodyguard. They were at least pretty amicable. Mick hadn’t beaten him up yet, and it did look like he had quite the temper.

Still, Len didn’t feel right about the whole thing. The relationship wasn’t mutually beneficial, which meant it was much less likely to last. If he couldn’t come up with one good reason that Mick should let him hang around, he might as well accept that the other boy would want him gone. He’d be too much of a nuisance to tolerate. The only problem was that the older boy wasn’t giving him any signals, and he hadn’t directly asked for something. Len found himself trying to get him to talk more about himself, hoping for hints. Anything that could help him out. He couldn’t find anything useful though, except that he liked dogs. A dog wasn’t really the kind of thing he could sneak in here though.

It had been a week, and he was starting to run through his most basic options. He could give him money, but what would he do with it if they were locked up? It wasn’t like there was a store, or even a good way to get it out. He could try to snatch a porn magazine, since he knew one of the guards always had one, but he wasn’t sure how that would come across. They weren’t really close enough for that not to be weird. Jewelry was out, because it was too easy to get caught over, and cigarettes just seemed like a bad idea if he had absolutely no indication that the other boy wanted any. He was at a loss. 

That was when it hit him. The one thing he knew for certain that Mick liked was food. Until he came up with something better, he could just give the older boy some of his food to buy himself time.

* * *

 

At dinner that day, Len took his normal spot across from Mick, and slid his tray out in front of him. “Here, take whatever you want.” He offered. Well, ordered was really more accurate. He still wasn’t great at being friendly with other people.

The older boy immediately fixed him with a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been helping me not get my ass kicked, so I’m giving something back.” He explained in a low voice. “So take what you want.”

There was silence between them for a while. “So you’re trying to pay me with food?”

“Yeah, Mick. That’s the plan.”

“Pay me back by eating your damn food and gaining some weight.” He growled, pushing the tray back at Len. “Then I won’t have to be your bodyguard, and you won’t need to pay me.”

The one easy and agreeable thing he’d been able to come up with, and now Mick wouldn’t accept it. Len was really irritated now, and he wasn’t going to just let it go. “Fine, no food. What do you want then? I’m trying to do something to pay you back for saving my life, and you’re making it a real pain in my ass. I already told you I can steal you something, now what is it that you want?” His voice was still quiet, but the anger in it was clear.

“You really mouthing off to me?” Mick seemed genuinely dumbfounded, and after a second he burst out laughing. “I like you kid. Look, I don’t really care about it. I had a fun time beating the shit out of them, so that was enough payment for me.” At the glare that he was receiving he added, “ If you need to get something, I like fire.”

“Fire?” He’d been prepared for all sorts of answers, but fire wasn’t one of them. How could you steal fire for someone? And on top of that, there was the issue of having guards everywhere who probably wouldn’t like people setting fires.

“Yeah, fire.”

“And you wouldn’t prefer  _ anything _ else?”

“No, I like fire.”

Len sighed. Fine, if he had to get fire, he’d get fire. Just a lighter though, any flame bigger than that was bound to attract the kind of attention that neither of them wanted. “Okay then, a lighter. I’ll get it to you in the next few days.”

“Right. So you’re really going to risk getting into trouble and getting a longer sentence, just to get me a lighter?” Mick snorted. “I mean you seem smart. I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you that this is a fucking bad idea.”

“Well I’m not stupid enough to get caught.” He growled.

That made Mick snort. “You don’t have to be stupid, just unlucky. And it looks like you’re a pretty unlucky guy, if you can almost get yourself killed your first day here.”

“I’m good at being a thief. I guarantee you, I won’t get caught.” 

“Sure thing,” he said, though he clearly didn’t believe him. Well, he’d find out soon enough that Leonard could take care of himself. He knew exactly what he was doing when it came to pickpocketing. Hell, he could steal Mick ten lighters, and no one would catch him. They’d probably notice that they were gone, but he could wipe them down and plant them in someone else’s bunk. Then neither he or Mick would get in trouble even if the guards came looking, which they probably would if he stole that many at once. He wasn’t an idiot, and if he was going to offer a favor, he’d be damn sure he could accomplish it.

* * *

 

That night, Len planned the theft. Normally pickpocketing was something he did based on opportunity. This was going to be more difficult. It was a lot harder to get close to any of the guards or teachers here. Plus, he couldn’t exactly bump into them, not without being pushed. So the question was whether someone was going to have to push him, or if he could find another distraction.

He knew the guards that smoked, and all teachers, just because he was observant. He hadn’t expected it to come in handy. He knew that a teacher would be less likely to cause an issue, because they trusted the kids more. Not completely, but unlike the guards, they were less likely to have their back to a wall, which meant it was possible to get behind them. The most trusting was a Mr. Walther. He taught English, and was generally pretty friendly. It seemed unlikely that he’d care about one scrawny fourteen year old being out of his line of sight, especially if there was a scuffle going on. He also seemed less likely to call anyone in if it didn’t escalate. The problem with a setup like this was that it required more than one person to be in on it. Len had only one person he knew well enough to ask for help. Fortunately, they were both in the same class together, so it was feasible. 

The first thing he had to do was pay attention to which pocket he kept his lighter in. Probably the one of the right side ones, since he was right handed. Back would make sense, since it would feel less vulnerable to him there. Len knew from experience that it was the other way around. People’s backs were a lot less sensitive than the front. People were about half as likely to notice someone lifting something off of them if it was from the back. Mr. Walther shouldn’t even feel his hand in the vicinity of his pocket, if he did it right.

He planned it all out that night instead of sleeping. The next morning, he decided to explain his plan to his new friend. They had to talk quietly, of course, but there wasn’t really an issue. No one liked to mess with Mick, so they weren’t going to be too keen to eavesdrop. No sense in giving him a reason to hurt them, especially when he was usually trying to anyway. 

“So I’m going to get you what you asked for, but I’ll need a little help.” He started, as soon as Mick sat down across from him. Mick had accepted that they were going to be hanging around each other now, and he’d sit with Len if he got there second. It was nice because it meant less switching tables.

“Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of having you get it for me?” Mick grunted, not actually looking up at him as he started in on his scrambled eggs.

That was fair. Normally Len wouldn’t need help, but this was different. “Most pickpocketing involves misdirection. All you have to do is start a scuffle in front of Mr. Walther. You could bump into someone and get mad at them. Just get loud enough to make sure his attention is entirely on you. Then he won’t notice that I’m touching him,” he explained.

“Okay…” He finished the last few bites with a suspicious look on his face. It was honestly sickening to watch him eat. “And you, the master thief, need help because you’re so good at never getting caught?”

“I need help because this is juvy, not a street corner where no one is paying attention. Everyone is always waiting for shit to go down. Outside all I need to do is be ready for a car horn, here there aren’t as many opportunities.”

Mick sighed and picked up his toast. “And we’re going to do this today?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Great. If you get me in trouble for this thing though, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Len smirked up at him, “Trust me, neither one of us is getting in trouble for this.”

* * *

 

It was funny how a simple pickpocketing job was starting to feel like a real heist. As soon as he walked into the classroom, Leonard was taking it all in. All he had to case was some skinny middle aged man’s right side pockets, but he was doing a damn thorough job of it. 

The lighter was in his back pocket, as he’d predicted it would be. Mr. Walther was wearing dress pants, but there were no buttons on the pockets, like some of them had. That was a good thing. He was quick, but unbuttoning and buttoning them closed again in the small amount of time it would take for him to feel the presence behind him would definitely be pushing it. He also noticed that the pants hung pretty loosely on him. That was another good thing, tight pants were more difficult.

They waited until the end of class, like they’d discussed. While everyone was getting up and leaving, Mick made his move. It wasn’t perfect timing. Len was still on the wrong side of his target, but as he’d hoped, Mr. Walther was pretty blind toward everyone else when he thought that one of his students was going to clobber another. In just a few seconds, Len was behind him. He slipped two of his fingers into the pocket as delicately as he could, and slid the lighter out without tilting it, so it wouldn’t touch the teacher with any more pressure than necessary. He did the whole thing without looking away from Mick, just in case someone was watching to notice that he wasn’t paying attention to the spectacle. Then he continued on after his brief pause and nodded ever so slightly to his friend.

“You better watch where you’re going next time, punk.” Mick growled, before storming off. He hadn’t actually hit the poor kid, since that would really get him in trouble, just scared him a little. The whole thing had gone perfectly. No one stopped him, since he hadn’t technically broken any rules, and he couldn’t really get in trouble for getting mad at someone if he didn’t act on it. They might even count it as an improvement, him learning to control his temper or something.

It was obvious that Mick wasn’t used to stealing. Whatever he was in for, it certainly wasn’t that. As soon as they were down the hall, he held out his hand expectantly, and Len had to make a conscious effort not to slap him. 

“Put your hand down right now,” he hissed. “Do you want to get us caught?”

“What does it matter now? We have it.”

“Look, if you get caught with that thing, then that’ll be the end of it. You definitely won’t be getting a lighter again, with or without my help.”

Mick sighed, clearly exasperated. “So they’ll take it away and scold me, no big deal. Why does that stop us from getting another?

“Think about it. If we don’t get caught with it, Mr. Walther will assume he lost it. Obviously none of us are supposed to have a lighter, and he’d be in big trouble if he let one of us get our hands on his. I seriously doubt that he’ll report it missing if nothing happens. If something does happen, like you getting caught with it, he’ll probably say he just noticed it was stolen and he was about to report it. Then they’ll think you steal lighters, and if I steal you another, you’re the first person they’ll check. I’d be willing to bet people will start keeping them locked up too.”  He explained. “The only way this works out is if no one ever finds out.”

The taller boy nodded, although he still looked irritated at the situation. “Okay, fine. I’ll be careful with it.”

“And if you can, store it someplace that’ll incriminate someone else, maybe under Terry’s mattress.” 

“Why Terry?”

Leonard scoffed. “You know why Terry.”

Terry was one of the boys whose cell was on their hall. He also happened to be the one who’d tried to kill Len his first day there. He wasn’t particularly big or strong, or even smart. He was just a mean son of a bitch who had a bunch of other people who did what he said. He also had a racist and anti Semitic streak a mile wide, which Len had found out was the reason he’d been attacked in the first place, because Terry had somehow overheard him requesting kosher meals. 

“So you want me to frame Little Hitler because he tried to stab you?”

He seemed okay with the idea, and Len nodded. “No one likes him, so I doubt anyone would defend him. Even his little cronies hate him, they’re just afraid of what he’ll do if they don’t cooperate.”

Mick whistled, probably impressed by the amount of thought that had went into all of this. He wasn’t an idiot himself, but he was very impulsive, so having a best and worst case scenario for if they got caught wasn’t what he was used to. “Damn, I’d hate to make an enemy out of you,” he remarked, smiling down at him. It was good to see he might actually like having the other boy around.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Len smiled. “And Mick?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure you wipe off your fingerprints if you put it in his bed. It would suck to get caught for overlooking something so small. It’ll be inside your pillow tonight. I’ll open the corner and put it inside the stuffing right on the edge.”

Mick nodded quickly. “Thanks, kid.”

  
Len smiled, and they both went into their next classes on opposite sides of the hall.They had done it. They’d actually gotten away with stealing a strictly prohibited item from a teacher without getting caught. This was going to be the start of a great partnership.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Len is willing to do some dumb shit to prove a point. Also I know that Mick is older and shouldn't be in the same English class as Len, but I figure based on cannon he's not that smart, or at least not in a book smart way. It's not a big stretch to say he'd be bad in school.


	3. Feels Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len knows that he's supposed to feel happier now that he's out of juvie, but he just isn't. He lost his one friend, and he's back to trying to dodge his dad and take care of his sister at the same time, which isn't an easy task. He half wishes that he could just bump into Mick on the street so he'd have someone around to make him feel like a normal teenager again.
> 
> This takes place in June of 1987. Leonard is 14, Mick is 16.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in early June, about a month after Len got out of juvy. Not gonna lie I've done a weird amount of research into genre specific popular artists and songs from the summer of 1987 so that there would be a sense of realism for all of us who may or may not have even been alive to recognize the authenticity.

Leonard had to get out of the house  _ now _ . He’d known it was a bad idea, arguing with his father, but for some reason he’d gone and done it anyway. He’d opened his mouth when he shouldn’t have, and his dad had punched him in the gut without a second thought. It wasn’t that being hit one time was so bad, but to go for it without trying to scare him first, that was never a good sign. They were upstairs, which meant it was a long ways to get out of the house, but he ran for it. Lisa wasn’t home, so he didn’t have to worry about her. 

He made it about halfway downstairs before Lewis caught up with him and kicked him squarely in the back. Then he was flying down through the air and hoping he didn’t get hurt that bad, so that he could run. The door was right at the bottom of the stairs, after all. If he could make it out the door, and to his bike, he’d be able to outrun his dad, and he would give up and lose interest.

He wasn’t able to completely break his fall, but throwing his hands up had slowed him down quite. His arms were no help to him though when his momentum carried him over them, and his face slid about a foot across the carpet. It hurt. It hurt more than he’d known a rug burn could hurt, and he was almost glad that his forehead and nose had taken the brunt of it, if only because it limited the damage to those two places and not his entire face. Well, that and his hands. He gritted his teeth through the pain and forced himself to get up and grab the door handle.

Len could hear his dad’s heavy footsteps behind him. He’d stopped for a moment to see if his son would get up, but now he was back to trying to catch him. Len didn’t slow down or close the door as he grabbed his bike from the porch, ran down the steps, and jumped on it, immediately pedaling as fast as he could.

He didn’t look back, but he knew he wasn’t being followed. Even if he was an asshole, Lewis didn’t like making a scene in public. Plus, he was lazy. 

The warm, humid air stung his raw skin as he rode, but he didn’t really mind. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever had, and the wind in his hair was almost nice, if he ignored the nausea that was steadily building in his stomach. God, what was he going to do? Not tonight, he already knew he wasn’t going home tonight, but tomorrow. Lisa would be home, unless he picked her up first, but she couldn’t hop in the backseat because it was a bike, and besides, where would he take her? He missed the feeling of freedom that he’d had in juvy, when he didn’t have anyone else to worry about. He knew he was safe, because he had Mick to protect him, and he knew Mick was safe because he was Mick. He knew it was weird that prison was where he’d felt the most free, and he hated it. He would run away right now if he didn’t need to take care of Lisa.

Back to the issue of what he was going to do tonight. Obviously he wasn’t go back home, that was out of the question. He didn’t have the time to grab his bag either. He always had it ready, it had socks, underwear, a toothbrush, and a blanket. It was for times just like this, when he would have to find a safe spot to sleep for the night. Tonight he hadn’t had the chance to go to his room for it. Now he supposed he’d just have to do without any of that. It made him feel strangely vulnerable.

The thing about summer was that the numbers of teenagers hanging around Central City doing nothing always went up. It was kind of nice, not being the only one out at midnight on a Wednesday. Maybe he wasn’t with friends, wasting time outside of a gas station, but for all anyone else knew he was on his way to hang out with someone.

There was a group of girls outside the movie theater with curly hair, all dressed up. They were pretty, especially the shortest one, with dark hair and a purple dress. They all glanced at him as he rode by, and he smiled at them, but they were quick to look away. Maybe they were already waiting on dates. Further down the street there was a big guy with a mullet and a denim jacket, flicking his lighter on and off. He looked up when Len passed, and the sight of him made Len stop his bike. 

“Mick?”

There was a moment where it was obvious that Mick thought he was in trouble, before he realized who was talking to him. Then a second moment where the recognition on his face turned to shock. “Snart? What the hell happened to you?”

Len had been so surprised to see Mick, that he’d forgotten about his face. He hadn’t looked in a mirror, but a rug burn couldn’t look good. If he’d been thinking right, he’d have just kept on riding to avoid questions. 

He paused for a second, and decided to answer mostly truthfully. “Fell down the stairs.”

“Well you look like shit.”

It was nice to have his charm back. “Thanks.”

Mick raised his eyebrows, “Your face is covered in blood.” 

Leonard hadn’t realized that. It did explain some of the weird looks he’d been getting, and while he hadn’t expected bleeding, it wasn’t a huge surprise. “Hm, no big deal.” He shrugged and tried to look casual about it, which probably would have been convincing if there was no blood on his face.

Naturally, Mick looked unconvinced. “I have a first aid kit in my truck.”

There was no question in his voice, and when he turned away Len followed him. “You have a truck?” He was trying to sound at least a little mocking, but he couldn’t help smiling. Of course he had a truck.

“Yeah, it’s good for farm stuff,” he explained as he led the way to the truck. “You okay other than falling down the stairs?”

“Not sure what you mean, Mick.”

Mick snorted, “Anyone beat the shit out of you lately? It’s hard to tell with the…” He looked back at him, “Carpet burn?”

Len nodded slowly. “Been just great. Getting to go out at all hours of the night, robbing people and not worrying about having my room searched. You? Are you meeting someone, finished hanging out, or do you still have no friends and like fire?”

Mick pulled out a set of keys and smiled at him. “The last one.“ He was leading the way to a beat up truck that was mostly tan, although that might have just been severe mud splatter. Still, it was pretty cool that he had it in the first place. Plenty of seventeen year olds had cars of their own, or one that they were allowed to take out when no one else needed it, but Leonard wasn’t used to the privilege. 

“You know, I’m kind of doubting the quality of your first aid kit.”

Mick didn’t look at him while he shifted things around under the seat until he could pull out a white metal box. “What, you think I burned anything I could clean you up with?”

It was nice talking to him. He could openly tease Mick without getting kicked down a flight of stairs. “Exactly. Doesn’t alcohol burn blue or something? Even I couldn’t resist that. Well, I could, but I also don’t really care about fire.”

“It burns normal. Anyways I restock it when I burn anything.” He pushed down the lock, shut the door, and started walking. Len had been expecting them to do it right there, so he was a little confused, which Mick clearly noticed. “Let’s go find a bathroom or something so I can see what I’m doing.”

That was a very good point, but Len wasn’t really thrilled about it. He’d learned early in life that he wasn’t supposed to let people see when he was hurt. If someone assumed the wrong thing, it would mean trouble.  “Do we have to go inside? Can’t we just go under a streetlight or something?” 

“I like having a sink to wash the blood off my hands.” He squinted at Len curiously. “What’s the deal, Snart?”

“Just don’t want to leave my bike out here,” he lied. “Someone could steal it.”

“No one will steal it.”

Len raised his eyebrows. “I stole it.”

Mick did not look surprised in the least, though he was clearly exasperated. “Whatever, put it in the truck. You can always steal another if someone takes it.”

Len saw little point in arguing. He was actually going to need a new bike soon anyway. He’d grown since he’d gotten this one, and it was awkward to ride now. He didn’t really care if someone took it. He did mind a little bit that Mick just picked it up and put it in the truck bed for him, even though Len was perfectly capable of doing it on his own. He didn’t protest though, and followed his friend inside the convenience store, which was the closest non-restaurant place with a public bathroom.

When Mick had told him that there was blood on his face, he’d assumed that it was minimal. Maybe a little trickle that had dried already. He did not expect the sight that he saw in the mirror. The carpet burn took up a good third of his face, and the area around it was so red and swollen that it looked infected. He’d have assumed that it was, if he didn’t know how recently it had happened. It was disgustingly shiny, and the mixture of blood and pus that still steadily streamed from the wound made it a sickly yellow in some places.

“Oh fuck, this is bad,” he muttered, forgetting for the moment that he wasn’t alone.

The click of the bathroom lock interrupted his horror. “Yeah, you look disgusting.”

“Jesus Mick, you could have told me that I’d lost all the skin on my face!”

The older boy shrugged, and pulled out a yellow box from his first aid kit. “Seems a little dramatic.”

Oh god this was really bad. How could he go home tomorrow looking like this? His dad would be pissed. Worse, Lisa would be worried. Damn it, why couldn’t he have been at the bottom of the stairs before he got kicked? “I don’t have any skin on my face! What the fuck?!”

There was a long silence, while Mick opened the box and started pulling out the individually sealed alcohol swabs. He was certainly taking his time with it, which gave Len a chance to cool off and realize that he shouldn’t yell at Mick when he had nothing to do with the whole thing. When he had laid out five of the wipes and washed his hands, he looked up. “You cool?” 

Mick was always so simple and direct about everything. It was soothing in a way. “I’m fine,” he managed, in a much more relaxed tone than he’d been capable of a few seconds ago. He noticed that his friend was also looking for a signal to start cleaning him up, so he put his back against the wall and leaned his head back until it touched the concrete. Now he couldn’t try to lean away from the burn of the alcohol. “Go for it.”

Mick was surprisingly delicate, with his big, strong hands. It still hurt like hell, obviously, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Len was used to bad. He almost never went to the doctor when he got injured, because his dad had some basic first aid training from being a cop. When it had just been scrapes and bruises from playing, it had been nice. Now it was mostly trying to keep other people from seeing any injuries Len might have sustained at his hand. When he cleaned them, he intentionally pushed too hard, just to get that extra bit of pain. That was what he had come to expect. 

Mick didn’t do that. In fact, every time Len showed any discomfort, he grimaced. After a few times, he even tested it by wincing unnecessarily, and was surprised to find that it got the same reaction. It almost made him want to smile. Finally, Mick threw away the last wipe, and got another box from his kit. He didn’t talk while he worked, he just pulled out a packet, ripped it open, and squeezed some ointment out on his finger. Technically Len felt that he could do this part himself, but he allowed the other boy to rub it on. It didn’t really hurt, especially not after the rubbing alcohol, but it did take three whole packets to cover the area. 

“‘fraid they don’t make any face bandaids.” Mick’s low rumble broke the silence between them, and Len felt himself jump a little. God he was a fucking idiot sometimes. Mick was being incredibly kind to him, and he’d flinched. Sure, it was involuntary, but it was still insulting.

To his credit, the older boy didn’t acknowledge it in any way. He just pulled out a roll of gauze. “Want me to wrap your whole head? Could be a good look for you.” 

“Better than no skin, probably.” 

“That a yes?”

“Thanks, but no.” Len watched silently while Mick packed up the first aid kit and washed the blood off his hands. It was nice to see him again. Maybe even nicer because without him, all Len would have done with his face was wipe off the blood with his sleeve. 

When Mick was done, he held open the door, which was unnecessary and made Len feel a little useless. “So where are you heading at this hour?” Mick asked, as they went outside.

“A friend’s house.” Len lied. That was a good answer. People his age had friends that they could go see. Maybe  _ he _ didn’t, but that was more of an issue with him not trusting people than anything else. To someone with no concept of what he was like outside of juvy, it was a perfectly believable story.

Mick nodded at him. “I’ll drive you.”

Damn it.

“No need.”

“I insist. I cleaned you up and everything, now I want to make sure you get there okay. Not a great idea, riding your bike at night. Someone might hit you.”

There was one spot that Leonard always knew he could go when he couldn’t go home. It was a few miles from here, in the faculty parking lot behind one of the high schools. It was far enough from the main road that people couldn’t see it when they drove by, and no one ever went there because it was a school. Well, maybe not so much that as because it wasn’t by anything worth going to. There was only residential neighborhoods, and upper middle class neighborhoods at that, so any kids who did live in the area could afford to go somewhere better. He would sleep right up next to the building, by the doorway. There was an awning that kept it from raining on him when the weather was bad.

It was also the kind of place that he couldn’t have Mick drive him to.

Len sighed. “I’d rather just go by myself.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because suddenly Mick was in front of him, with an accusatory look in his eye. He wasn’t so much taller now, because Len had grown a few inches, but he was still much bigger. “Hey, I know I ain’t too smart, but I know when something is wrong. Stop being an idiot and tell me so I can help you.”

It certainly wasn’t an appealing offer, but he had to say something. There wasn’t really a way around it. “I’m going out to the Central City High parking lot, okay?” Mick could always sniff out a lie, so he knew he had to tell the truth. That didn’t mean he had to tell the whole truth though. 

Mick looked baffled. Why wouldn’t he be? There was no good reason to go there. “You buying weed or something?”

“No.”

“You’re not into anything serious, are you?”

Len could feel himself getting more irritated. “It has nothing to do with drugs, Mick. I’m not meeting anyone for anything, I just go there to sleep sometimes.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

Len glared at him, irritated that he was having to spell this out. “Some nights I can’t go home, alright?”

At that, Mick took a step back, giving him some room to breathe. “This have to do with your face?”

“Look, thanks a lot for your help, but this is really none of your business. It was nice seeing you.” Mick opened his mouth to say something else, but Len brushed past him before he could start. He’d have been so happy to see Mick on any other day, but right now he just wanted to avoid questioning and figure out exactly what the hell to do about his face. He couldn’t come home like this, his dad would be furious, and then things would only get worse. He was pulling his bike out of the back when a big hand grabbed his arm. Lost in thought, worrying about his father, he didn’t see it coming, or even register that it was his friend. He panicked and wrenched his arm away with so much force that he fell down.

Tonight was turning out to be a disaster. He was anxious, scared, and in pain, and now he was sitting on the ground without intending to get there. Mick was an intimidating figure who he was no longer accustomed to being around, and now he was hovering over Len, asking him questions in a very loud voice. It was all too much. He wanted to move and get away, but the damn truck was behind him and Mick was in front of him and he couldn’t just go around him because he was terrified, and he knew that it was stupid and he wasn’t in danger, but that didn’t help him at all.  He felt his breathing becoming erratic, and he covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut to try to block it all out for a minute so he could just calm down.

It took a while, but eventually he could uncover his ears. Mick hadn’t bothered him once he’d started freaking out, and he didn’t now, though Len could hear him shifting around uncomfortably. He kept his eyes closed, all too aware that when he opened them he would have to deal with what had just happened. He only opened them once it seemed like he couldn’t put it off any longer, and even then he looked anywhere but at Mick. 

Len didn’t know if there was a name for when this happened. The anxiety would just build up until it was all too much and he had a meltdown. As far as how they usually went, this one wasn’t bad. He was glad Mick hadn’t touched him again, at least, since that would have made things infinitely worse. 

“You cool?”

Len snorted out a laugh. He certainly wasn’t cool, and that was obvious. “Yeah, I’m cool.” He said anyway. “I’ll see you around.”

“Hang on, I didn’t mean to freak you out before, but you should come home with me. You ain’t got shit with you, and sleeping in a parking lot is fucking stupid.” He explained. He was right, no matter how much Len might hate it.

Still, he huffed and crossed his arms. “Normally I have a blanket.”

Mick squinted at him. “And you don’t now, so get in the truck.”

Len was too tired and upset to want to argue. He didn’t normally go to people he knew when he was visibly hurt because he didn’t want them to worry, but it was too late for that. “Fine. But only because I don’t like sleeping on asphalt.” 

He also missed Mick, but he would never say that out loud. It would ruin his reputation if people thought he had feelings. Although, when he thought about it, he might not seem soft if the person he missed was his prison friend. It was hard to say. 

They got into the truck, and Len flipped the radio to the pop station that he always listened to. It wasn’t like he didn’t realize it was rude to mess with someone’s radio without permission, he just didn’t care. Part of the reasons they were friends in the first place was because Len practically dared Mick to beat the shit out of him whenever they were together, and Mick liked having someone who wasn’t terrified of him. 

It was hard not to enjoy the irritated look on the older boy’s face as Len turned up the volume on “I wanna dance with somebody.” It was a little overplayed, but Len personally loved it. Sure, he was a criminal, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying a catchy, danceable song. By the second chorus, his discomfort at the situation had eased a little and he started dramatically lipsyncing just to be annoying. Mick remained silent in the driver’s seat.

“You have something against Whitney Houston?” Len asked, when the song was over.

Mick shrugged. “Don’t really listen to any of that top forty crap.”

Len smirked at him. Of course he didn’t, he was way too edgy for that. Only then he realized that he was in a mud splattered truck, and Mick was a farmer. “Oh god, you don’t like country music do you?”

“What?”

“If you’re some country bumpkin Dwight Yoakam fan you can drop me off right now, because I can’t associate with you anymore.”

Mick looked offended. “Okay first of all, Dwight Yoakam isn’t that bad. I mean he isn’t good, but there’s much worse out there.”

“Oh my god!”

“Second of all, I’m more of a rock n’ roll guy.”

Leonard sighed, “I guess that’s acceptable. Do you at least like Queen?” He wasn’t sure if you could call them rock n’ roll, but if Mick didn’t like them then it clearly meant there was something wrong with him.

“I don’t have any of their albums, but yeah, they’re good.” Mick gave him a funny look. “You a big fan?”

“They’re no Prince, but I don’t think anyone who dislikes them should be trusted.”

“I forgot how weird you are.”

Len raised his eyebrows. “I’m weird? You stand on street corners by yourself in the middle of the night playing with lighters. You can’t talk.”

“Yeah, but at least I don’t pretend that I hurt myself falling down the stairs when it’s an obvious lie.”

That was a little too personal, and Len glared at him, which was a little pointless because his friend was paying attention to the road and not him. Maybe it was fair though. He didn’t really get Mick’s fire thing, but it could be just as personal as his issues with his dad. He didn’t want to press, in case his friend did the same.

Neither of them were all that eager to talk, so they just listened to ‘that top 40 crap’ on the radio. Len actually enjoyed the music, and he studiously ignored the fact that Mick didn’t. Even though it was his truck, he didn’t try to turn it off. Maybe he thought that Len would turn it back on or something. He probably would have. He didn’t know why he always pushed people like that, it usually gut him hurt. Sure, Mick hadn’t hit him yet, but Len was pretty sure that was just because he had a soft spot for him after saving his life.

It was weird being together again, outside of prison walls. The autonomy of driving somewhere was nice. He wasn’t sure he liked the tense silence, but he wasn’t about to tell Mick that his dad had kicked him down the stairs.

They arrived at a white farmhouse surrounded by wheat or some other tall crop thing. There was a barn, and a chicken coop, and that was all he could see because there were no streetlights all the way out here. None of it matched up with his idea of what Mick’s house would be like. In fact it was so completely off that he almost wanted to laugh.

“Geez, isn’t this place a little apple pie for you?”

Mick turned off the truck and looked at Len critically. “You can sleep with the goats if that would make you feel better.”

That had Len laughing. “You have goats?!”

Mick didn’t answer. He just got out of the car and started walking to the front door. Len had no choice but to follow.

“Your family going to be awake?”

“Doubt it.”

“Will they take well to having an extra person over in the morning?”

Mick opened the door and looked back at Len. “Don’t worry about it.”

  
It wasn’t an answer that instilled confidence, but Leonard was tired, and he didn’t want to argue and end up back to the original parking lot plan. If Mick was willing to face whatever consequences he’d have to face, then that was his problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me some comments, they're good for the soul. Also I'm a loser who needs constant validation to be motivated to write more. You can also find me at www.incredibly-cold.tumblr.com if you have a chapter idea that you don't want to write but do want to see, or if you just wanna talk, idk.


	4. Old Mick-Donald had a Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len wakes up at Mick's house with the strange and new situation of having to figure out what to do around a friend's parents. The last time he was in an unfamiliar house, he'd been breaking and entering. Somehow he got the feeling that there were different rules for this.
> 
> This takes place in June of 1987. Leonard is 14, Mick is 16. Lisa is 6.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Mick is the wild child of these super nice parents. Like, they're strict, and they definitely aren't understanding of his pyromania, but otherwise they're pretty awesome. One of the things they get on him most about is the fact that he doesn't have friends and he always beats people up, so they're thrilled about him inviting a friend over, even if it was unexpected.

When he first woke up, Len didn’t know where he was. He was warm and comfortable, and enveloped in the smell of smoke. Not cigarettes, it was more like he’d rolled around in the ashes of a bonfire. When he opened his eyes he didn’t recognize anything around him.There were grey walls and a red comforter. It was also very messy. Definitely not his own room. Then he started to remember, and he realized this was Mick’s house. Then where was Mick? He wasn’t in the bed, and a quick check around the room told him that he wasn’t there at all. Maybe he was in the bathroom? Surely he wouldn’t have just left.

He got out of bed as quietly as he could, which wasn’t all that quietly because the floor creaked loudly and he didn’t know where to step to avoid making noise. Mick had let him borrow a pair of sweatpants to sleep in, and they were at least six inches too long. Len rolled them up so he wouldn’t trip on them, and grabbed his jacket. It was actually pretty hot, but he didn’t like people seeing all the scars on his arms from when he’d thrown them up to protect himself from glass bottles being thrown at him. Mick had already seen them when they were sharing a cell, but Mick’s parents certainly didn’t need to. Once he was satisfied that he looked okay, he went out into the hall.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in an unfamiliar house with no idea where anything was, though maybe the first time he had permission to be there. He wasn’t quite sure how to act. He needed to go to the bathroom, but he wasn’t sure which door was the right one, and he didn’t want Mick’s parents to see him looking around and assume that since he was their son’s juvenile delinquent friend, he was trying to steal something. He would never steal when he was the only person over. It would be obvious who did it.

He deliberated for a minute and decided that his need to pee was not so strong that he couldn’t wait until he went downstairs to announce his presence and ask where the bathroom was. Even though he knew there was no reason, he tried to go down the stairs quietly. 

It was a pretty nice house. Nicer than he’d noticed before, when it was dark and he’d been distracted by how not-Mick it all was. The stairs came into a nice living room. The off white carpet looked untouched, down to the undisturbed vacuum tracks, which made him think that Mick’s mom was one of those people who didn’t let anyone go into the formal living room because it had to look nice. It would make sense, with the pink and white striped arm chair, floral couch, and deep pinky peach walls, which were all very trendy. No one was in there, so he went around the corner and found himself in the kitchen.

Mick’s mom was sitting at the table with a book, and she didn’t look up when he came into the room. Len couldn’t help thinking about how he’d been right about the living room. The kitchen had brown counters and lemon yellow walls that hadn’t been trendy in a decade. It was more normal for a lived in house, and he liked it better.

He cleared his throat, hoping not to startle her. With his face and all, he knew the sight of him had to be pretty alarming. She was only a little started by the sound, but she didn’t even try to hide the horror on her face when she saw him.

“Oh my god! What happened? Are you okay?” She put down her book without marking the page and rushed across the room to get a better look at the damage. After a few seconds she folded her arms across her chest. “Did Mick do this?”

He shook his head and tried to step back without looking like he was trying to get away from her. Why would he be here if Mick had beaten him up anyway? “No, it’s fine. I’m a klutz, I just fell down the stairs last night and the carpet kind of… Well, it looks worse than it is.”

She made a sympathetic face that Len really didn’t appreciate and patted him on the shoulder. He managed not to shy away from her hand, even though it made his skin crawl. He didn’t like being touched. “I’m sure we have some ointment that you could put on it.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate it. I was wondering where the bathroom is?” 

“Oh, of course!” She sounded almost embarrassed at not having thought of that, which was sweet, but also unnecessary. If he was in her position, he’d have assumed that Mick had shown him the bathroom last night when he got here. It just happened that Mick was a shitty host. Well, not that shitty, he  _ had _ invited Len over with no advanced notice.

The bathroom was small, with framed cross stitch flowers and a little bowl of potpourri. Len did his business and left, feeling like he was in some kind of alternate universe the whole time. In what world could someone like Mick have cross stitch flowers and pink potpourri in their house? How come he wasn’t some straight and narrow, flannel wearing, church going farm boy?

Mick’s mom was waiting for him in the kitchen with a tube of ointment when he got there, the perfect image of a mom. It was weird, but Len kind of liked it. He did have to refuse her offer to help him though, that was a little too much.

“What do you want for breakfast? We’ve got cereal, oatmeal, and eggs. I can make pancakes if you want those,” she offered.

Len shook his head. “Thank you, but I’m okay. Where’s Mick?” He didn’t want to ask for too much and push his luck with this woman. Sure, she was polite, but that didn’t mean she was okay with him being here. He’d gotten plenty of experience with faking friendliness himself.

“Mick is doing his chores. Now he told me you’re a little skittish, but I hope you aren’t pretending not to be hungry to be less trouble.” The shock must have shown on his face because she laughed. “Okay hun, cereal it is. Nice and easy and you won’t be hungry.”

He glared out the window even though Mick couldn’t see him. “Thanks.” He didn’t like that his friend had called him out like that. Why would he have told her that? Next he’d be telling her that Len was a thief that stole lighters for him.

He didn’t object to the cereal and milk she put in front of him. He didn’t really see a point in it. Obviously saying no wouldn’t matter to her. Besides, he couldn’t really go out and help with farm chores. He didn’t know what he was doing, and having to be taught would be way more trouble than help. Also he didn’t really want to. 

”So he said he knew you from juvy?”

That was certainly honest of him. “Didn’t even pretend we were school friends?”

She shook her head. “He got suspended a few years ago, been home schooling him ever sense.”

“Let me guess, beating up other kids?” He winced, realizing how bad that sounded. “That sounded judgemental. Mick beating people up is the only reason I’m still alive, so I think it’s one of his better qualities. We were cellmates once it got too full for individual cells. It was nice to run into him.”

She looked amused by him somehow. “Well I’m glad he got to see a friend. I’m Linda, and he said your name is Snart?”

“Yeah, Leonard Snart. It’s nice to meet you.” The weirdest part was that he wasn’t even lying. He couldn’t help but enjoy this. Something about seeing this other piece of Mick’s life was just so interesting to him. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Leonard. I was hoping you two would meet up sometime.”

He watched her curiously. Most parents wouldn’t want their kid hanging out with someone they met in prison. “You’re cool with having your son’s juvenile delinquent friend coming over to your house unexpectedly in the middle of the night?”

“I’m okay with having my son’s friend come over when he needs a place to stay.”

Len thought that was sweet of her, but maybe a little stupid. She didn’t know  _ why _ he was in juvy. Maybe it was something bad, the kind of thing she wouldn’t want in her house. Hell, theft probably fit that bill already. He didn’t need to tell her though. “That’s nice of you.”

Linda snorted. “Mick wouldn’t invite you over if you were dangerous.”

That was fair, but maybe not true. Mick was the kind of guy who would think he could handle things right up until it was too late. He was cocky. And why wouldn’t he be? The chances of someone overpowering him were slim to none. Len finished his bowl of cereal in silence, feeling a bit uncomfortable at being watched the whole time. As soon as he was done, Linda picked up his bowl and took it to the sink.

“He’s probably in the barn if you want to look for him.”

Len didn’t need to be told twice. Nice as she was, he didn’t want to stay and mess up this interaction. He didn’t know how to act with a mom, especially one who was doing stuff for him. He thanked her and headed out the door. Even if he couldn’t find his friend, he could wander around in peace. He wasn’t big on having someone watching him.

It was warm, sunny, and humid outside, which was easily Len’s least favorite kind of weather. His denim jacket didn’t do anything to help him cool down, although he still wouldn’t remove it. He also realized that he had no idea where anything was. He could see the barn, and of course walked to it, but if Mick wasn’t there he didn’t have a clue where to look next. This was his first time being here, and his first time at any farm. He wasn’t even sure where else to begin. Len tried to push the sliding door open, but it was much heavier than he’d expected. He struggled with it for a while, and finally slipped in the narrow opening he’d made and hoped that Mick would be there..

He was surprised to find that there were no animals in the barn. There was farm equipment, some big bags of who knows what, and a lot of hay. There was also no sign of Mick. Len went back outside, feeling disheartened and decided to go to the next biggest thing he could see. A large shed that attached to a fenced area. It was a ways away, but since there weren’t any other houses he had to assume it was part of the Rory farm. Presumably there  _ were _ animals there, since it had a fence, which was a little nerve racking. Len wasn’t exactly great with animals. All he’d had was a fish when he was nine, and that was pretty short lived.

On his walk over there, Len considered what he would say to Mick. Should he thank him for letting him stay over? Thanking people wasn’t really his style, it made him look weak. He preferred giving people things. Still, lighters were pretty much useless when he could buy one at the store, and outside juvy, stealing things to give him might not go over as well. He could also not bring it up, but acting like he didn’t need to be thankful usually worked out disastrously. He decided that offering to help with something would be good enough. If it was some technical farm thing, Mick wouldn’t say yes, and if he had to wash windows or something, he could live with that.

Mick was there, as he’d hoped, but he was surprised to find that the fenced in area was full of goats. Len had never seen a goat in his life, but they were much smaller than he’d pictured. Like cat sized kind of small. Mick was chasing them for some reason, and they were doing a very good job of avoiding him. They weren’t at all graceful, but they were fast, and they jumped around and twisted in an unpredictable way, so every time he bent down to grab one, it got away.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Mick had just managed to grab one of them, but Len had startled him and it twisted out of his grasp. Mick put his hands on his knees and let out a distinctly irritated growl. 

Len smirked, “Aw, the one who goat away.” It was horrible, and he knew it, but he also couldn’t resist saying it.

That earned him a glare. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here”

Len was pleased with the reaction. A joke was really only good if it made people hate him. “Don’t be like that, I came to help you. Or rather to see if you needed help, which clearly you do.”

“You think you can round up baby goats better than I can?”

“They’re babies?”

Mick raised his eyebrows and laughed. “You know what? I’d love for you to help me out, mister goat expert.”

* * *

 

Len knew as soon as Mick said it that he thought this would be funny. He looked smug about it, and Mick was never smug unless he was really sure things were going his way. That being said, Len was determined to prove him wrong. They were baby goats. How hard could it possibly be? It wasn’t like they were going to outwit him. All he needed to do was watch them and figure out how each of them acted, and then he could use that to predict their movements and catch them. It was simple.Mick just hadn’t thought of it because he didn’t have a tactical mind.

He quickly realized that his plan had a major flaw, which was that goats did not have any pattern of movement. They also jumped a lot. He could probably handle either of those things separately, but together? It was worse than Lisa after too much sugar.

For one thing, this whole fenced in area was way too big, and it had too many things for the goats to jump on. He still hadn’t actually caught a single goat, but he’d climbed in and out of a tree about six times trying to get one of the little bastards. It just jumped up there, which he still didn’t fully understand, and when he climbed up to get it, it jumped back down, and as soon as his feet were on the ground again, it jumped right back into the tree. It was infuriating. After what felt like hours, he finally lost his patience.

“You don’t even have thumbs or claws, you have fucking  _ hooves _ ! How are you staying in there?! Have you never heard of physics?!”

“At my house? Of course they haven’t.”

Mick’s voice directly behind him was enough to make him leap away in fright. Didn’t he have goats to be getting? A look around told him no, he’d already gotten all of them into their shed. Bastard. “What’s the deal with these things?”

“They’re goats, they do whatever they want. Clearly this one wants to make an ass out of you.”

Len narrowed his eyes, “No one asked you.”

Mick shrugged and pulled a handful of raisin bran. “You tried to strategize catching goats and didn’t think to use food, so you opened yourself up to criticism.”

Sure enough, the little thing let out one of it’s weird ass goat screams and jumped out of the tree to eat out of Mick’s hand. Len grudgingly picked it up while it was distracted and held it while it squirmed and screamed.

“I don’t even like goats”

“They don’t like you either, you’re too grouchy.”

Maybe he was a little grouchy, but he had every right to be. These goats were a pain in the ass. Plus his face was still all fucked up, and it hurt. Instead of pointing it out, which would have seemed whiny, he rubbed the goat’s head and said, “Your mom is nice.”

“She make you eat? I told her to make sure you ate something. You’re finally starting to grow.” He pulled out a medicine syringe full of something pink and shoved it in the goat’s mouth without offering an explanation. When it was empty, he clapped Len on the shoulder. “Thanks for holding him, you can put him down now.”

“Wait, what?”

“They needed medicine, gotta put them in the shed so I know which ones already took it. We’re done now.”

Len was horrified. After all that effort, he was done? “So you’re just going to let them out?”

“Yeah, it’s a shed, they can’t stay in there all day in this heat.” He looked unbothered by any of it. Sure enough, he walked over to the shed and opened the door, letting all the goats run free, including some much bigger ones than he’d seen before. They were about the size of large dogs, and had to be the adults. 

Len put down the asshole baby goat, but it didn’t make him feel like any less of an idiot.  So many times in and out of that tree, and they only needed it for a few seconds. If this was what Mick was talking about when he said farm work was hard, Len understood now. “Any other pointless tasks I can help out with?”

His friend looked around, clearly deliberating. He probably didn’t want to start on something that Len wouldn’t be able to tag along for. It was nice of him, since he knew Len hated being around authority figures like parents or prison guards. “Bout ready to take the milk out to deliver. You wanna come?” 

“You deliver it? Like a milkman? Why not sell it at a store?” He was too much of a city kid to get this whole farming thing, especially when it meant reviving a job that had been obsolete for years.

“We mostly have crops, not a lot of animals. Wouldn’t make sense sending the milk or eggs to a store. Plus we get more money if we cut out the middleman,” he explained. It made sense, Len supposed, in a stupid way. The chicken coop wasn’t huge, there weren’t a ton of goats, and he didn’t even know where the cows were at. Still, he thought it would be better to just not bother with it at all, and not raise animals.

There was one issue that had been starting to worry him though, and that was Lisa. She’d spent the night at her friend’s house, and when she did that she normally stayed until around noon. It was getting worryingly close to that time. She couldn’t go home though, Lewis was still angry, and if he couldn’t take it out on Len, he’d take it out on her. “Are any of your deliveries in town?” Asking if they could pick up Lisa was a bit much, and he knew it, but he didn’t see any other option. Their grandpa was out of town for the weekend.

Mick looked down at him quizzically, “Kind of. Why?”

He didn’t answer directly, but rather asked another question. “Anything around 33rd and Elm?”

“I don’t know street names, what’s it by?”

Of course he didn’t know street names. Honestly sometimes he was such a wreck that it was a wonder he hadn’t died already. Then again, he did live in the country, so he probably didn’t  _ need _ to learn the city. “Close to the bowling alley.”

Mick looked like he was thinking very hard and answered, “Not on my way. Why?”

Normally he would have just dropped it, but the situation was urgent, and he didn’t see a way around it. “It’s my sister. She’ll be leaving her friends house in at noon and I need to pick her up so they don’t take her home.”

Of course, now they were back to the delicate problem of Lewis Snart, a fact that wasn’t lost on Len for an instant. “Why don’t you want them taking her home?”

He didn’t want to make up excuses right now. It took something really good to fool Mick, and right now he didn’t have the time or focus to make one. He had to just tell him without saying much and hope for the best. “My dad is there.” 

Mick clearly wanted to push, it was unmistakable. For some reason though, he didn’t. “Yeah, sure, whatever,” he agreed.

It took them a little while to load the truck, and they had to do it a certain way so that nothing would break while they were driving. They started out by putting a plastic tarp, then the milk, cheese, and eggs, and then they dumped bags of ice over the top. It was about the crudest fridge that Len had ever seen, but it would work. It also meant he had to leave his bike, which meant that Mick couldn’t just drop them off somewhere. That posed its own set of problems. When they were finished, Mick went inside to ask his mom something. Probably farm stuff.

* * *

 

They left with very little time to spare, given the long drive, and Len was worried that they would be too late. By all rights, they should have been. But, as they pulled up, they saw Lisa and her friend getting in the car, and Len jumped out before they could drive away.

“Mrs. Wallace, wait!” he shouted as he ran across the street. “Came to pick her up, sorry about being late.”

Mrs. Wallace was always a little moody, mostly with Len, but she didn’t make any rude comments today. Maybe he should keep his face like this all the time. It made people nicer to him. Unfortunately, it also scared Lisa, and since he was picking her up, she could guess who did it. Her face got that sad look that it always did when he was hurt, and she ran to give him a hug.

Lisa hated Lewis with a passion that Len didn’t have. It wasn’t her fault, she’d just never known him before jail. There was a time when Lewis was a good father. Maybe he didn’t take Len to the park or do any of those normal father son things, but he was always nice enough to him. Sometimes he’d even buy Len cookies from the store when he was good. It wasn’t until later that he became the way he was now. 

Something about being in prison for those five years had changed him. When he was in juvy, Len worried that the same thing would happen to him. That was part of the reason he wanted Mick around to keep him safe. If he didn’t have to fight people, then he wouldn’t have to turn to physical as a solution for everything. He wouldn’t become a violent, angry shell of his old self. There was also the part where he was weak and likely to get killed, which was definitely the stronger influence on the situation.

That being said, Len was still holding out hope that someday Lewis would stop being so angry and go back to the way that he used to be. If he changed back then, he could change again. He would be the dad that Lisa deserved. 

Lisa didn’t share his faith.

Mrs. Wallace asked him something about who the man in the truck was, and Len lied and told her that Lewis got called into work and couldn’t come get her, so he’d had to call his only friend who could drive and ask for a ride. It was good enough, because she didn’t object to Lisa getting in with them.

“Lisa, this is Mick, the one I told you about,” he explained, when they got in the truck. Len took the middle seat between them, so Lisa wouldn’t have to sit beside a strange man. Especially one as physically intimidating as Mick.

“Nice to meet you Lisa.” Mick didn’t reach to shake her hand or anything, which was good because that was always weird. Lisa was six. Len didn’t really get why people thought she wanted to shake hands. “Wanna help us deliver some milk?”

Len expected her to be as thrown by the idea as he had been, but as it turned out , she was excited to play milkman. Apparently she thought it was a cool job. Maybe there was a milkman in one of her cartoons that he didn’t know about.

At their first stop, Mick let her climb up in the back of the truck so she could see how it was all set up, and even pulled out three bottles of chocolate milk that Len never saw him put in, one for each of them. That was all it took for him to win Lisa’s heart. She helped him take bottles to the porch, and bring the empty ones back to the truck, and when they got back in, she automatically sat in the middle.

* * *

 

“You’re very handsome.” She told him when they were at their third stop. 

Len choked on nothing but air, and whipped his head around to look at his sister. He knew that she was just a little kid, but what would possess her to say something like that? She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the kind of thing you told a person you’d just met! Then he realized that it was partly his own fault, because he talked about Mick all the time, and she probably knew that he was safe to talk to. Maybe she even felt like she knew him. Plus he gave her free chocolate milk, and if that wasn’t grounds for a compliment, then what was?

Mick snorted, either at being called handsome or the way Len reacted. “My mom thinks so too.”

He had that self-deprecating humor that was funny and a little irksome at the same time. Len couldn’t help feeling irritated when he talked bad about himself. It didn’t stop him from joining in though, because he was an asshole, and he also liked teasing someone who he wasn’t afraid of.  “Lisa, I think you’ve missed the dead thing glued to his head.”

Mick grunted his acknowledgement. “Watch it, Snart. If anyone tries to cut off my hair, they’re losing a hand. You know it took me almost a year to get it this long in the back?”

Len had never really thought about it. “A whole year and you never reconsidered?” 

“Fuck you.” Mick said, and almost immediately looked horrified because there was a child in the car.

He shrugged, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Fine, your hair isn’t that bad. I only  _ sometimes _ worry that you’ll light your entire head on fire after you’ve gotten it all nice and spiky.”

“That’s the whole point of a mullet, it’s short in the front so it doesn’t catch fire. And it has to be spiky. I ain’t having no fluffy cloud mullet on my head.” 

“A dilemma which I have avoided by getting a hairdo that looks good. Guess you could say I dodged a mullet on that one.” 

Mick looked down at Lisa. “Do you have to put up with this all the time?”

She was quick to shake her head, with this knowing look that Len knew spelled trouble. “Not around dad.”

Fucking damn it. Kids and their honesty. She wasn’t even supposed to answer. “Lisa, don’t. We’ve talked about this.”

“We don’t talk about it around other people because they might get the wrong idea.” She sighed, reciting exactly what he’d told her time and time again. By saying it out loud she was, of course, making things worse, but she didn’t get it because she was six, and she .had not yet grasped the idea of keeping secrets. She also had no idea how bad some foster homes were, or that they’d likely be split up if they were sent away.

Mick had an unmistakably angry look on his face. “I’d love to hear you talk about it,” he said, in a deceptively light voice, and Len knew he was screwed.

“Dad hurts Lenny when he gets mad. I bet that’s what happened--”

“-Lisa, stop! I just fell down the stairs last night, no big deal! Mick, I need to talk to you.  _ Privately _ .” He knew that he hadn’t interrupted her in time, but he also figured she wouldn’t say anything else unprompted. She never did when he used the angry voice like he just did on Mick. It made him feel kind of bad, but he also really needed her to shut up right now, and she knew that he would never hurt her.

They were quiet all the way to the next stop, and this time they left Lisa in the car to take care of the deliveries.

“Damn it Mick, you do  _ not _ get to use my sister to find out more about me. She’s only six, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

Mick was ready for him. “Yeah? Seems smarter than you are. You want to protect the guy who did that to you?”

Of course he wouldn’t get it. Sure, he was tough, and he had a criminal record, but his life was completely different. “So what’s the solution then? Call CPS and get sent away? Get split up? Move from home to home until we age out of the system? Maybe get put with someone worse? Dad’s not perfect, and that’s not what I’m trying to tell you, but he isn’t so bad. He’s just been having a rough time lately and he needs to get out his anger sometimes.”

“So you let him beat the two of you?”

“No, of course not. I’d never let him lay a hand on Lisa.” He protested. “Look, I can handle it. I’ve been doing fine taking his shit and keeping her safe for the past six years, and I don’t need some nosy do-gooder screwing up our lives for no reason.”

“I get it, the system is fucked, and I never said I’d call anyone, but I can help. You can call me.” He didn’t look any less angry, which didn’t really fit what he was saying. “It’s still you and me. I’ve got your back, but I can’t help if you pretend nothing is happening. Obviously you couldn’t call before, but I’m glad you ran into me, because clearly you need help.”

Len hated him a little bit. He didn’t get that this was an unreasonable request. If he started hanging around Mick’s and he was always beat up, then what would his parents think? There wasn’t that many reasons for him to be getting hurt at this age. If they thought something was up and made a call, it wouldn’t matter that Mick hadn’t ratted on him. “Yeah, I’ll call you and we can chat about our feelings,” he huffed. “Listen, I really did fall down the stairs this time.”

Mick only glared at him without talking.

“Maybe I had a little help,” he told him, only because he knew Mick wouldn’t stop bothering him unless he said something. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll call you next time I have to hide out for the night.”

He looked more pissed than ever, but he knew Len well enough to realize that it was as good as he was going to get. “Good.”

Len sighed in irritation. “And not to be an ass, since I know this was a favor, but what are we going to do now that we have Lisa?”

Mick grabbed two milk bottles from the back, “I told my mom she was coming over. She’s making dinner for both of you.”

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. It must have been what he’d spoken with her about. Len didn’t follow Mick up on the porch, he just got back in the truck and waited with Lisa.

* * *

 

It took a long time for them to get back. None of them had eaten lunch, so they were all hungry, but Linda made them sandwiches. The fact that she was making all their meals for them made Len deeply uncomfortable, like he was on some old TV show. He was used to making himself dry cereal, or scrounging together enough money for he and Lisa to get something from McDonald's. Lewis certainly didn’t cook for them, and their mom had never done much at all except for cleaning up broken bottles and crying on the couch. Now that she was gone, things weren’t all that different.

Lisa wanted to play with the goats, so that’s where the two of them stayed while Mick finished up his chores. Then he was done, and they went inside. He and Lisa sat in the dining room, uncomfortably, watching Linda cook while Mick showered. Len offered to help, but she turned them down, saying that it wasn’t a guest’s job to help with cooking.

Len hadn’t seen Mick’s dad all day, and somehow he’d forgotten that he lived here at all. When he walked in the front door, it was jarring. Len’s first instinct was to shift himself between Lisa and this stranger. 

“Hi honey.” Linda peeked around the corner and smiled at him.

After that he was able to relax a little, and even feel a little stupid for being afraid. He looked exactly like Mick, but older, and without the dumb mullet. He was also just as physically intimidating, so he couldn’t calm down all the way, but it was better than thinking that someone had just walked in. The man was giving him a funny look, and after a few seconds he asked, “Wasn’t there only supposed to be one of you?”

“Sorry sir, had to pick up my little sister.” Len explained, with his most friendly smile. He’d been told that he was charming before, and times like these were when he hoped they were right. He needed as much charm as he could muster right now.

Mick’s dad waved a hand. “The more the merrier, right? I’m James Rory, and he said your name was Snart?”

It was interesting that he’d never told either of his parents his first name, but he ignored it. “Yeah, Leonard Snart. And this is Lisa.” James looked at his hand to check how dirty it was, and turned down a handshake. That was good. Len wasn’t obsessive about it or anything, but he didn’t like things being dirty or messy.

Before long Mick came downstairs and James went up to take his turn in the shower. Len wasn’t sure if he envied his friend for his average life, but he did think it was nice. Then again, he didn’t know what went on when they didn’t have a guest.

Dinner was wonderful. He and Lisa didn’t get spaghetti a whole lot, and never with meatballs. They were even very accommodating. The first thing Linda told them when they all sat down was that the meatballs were all beef, so he and Lisa didn’t have to worry about the whole pork thing. He thought that was really sweet. He wasn’t that strict about it, and he would have eaten them anyway even if they were pork, but she had considered his and Lisa’s comfort when she made the food. It also meant that Mick had remembered and told her that he was Jewish, which he wouldn’t have expected.

  
Len still wasn’t excited by the idea of involving anyone else in his life. He felt bad taking up his grandpa’s time, and that was a relative, Mick had no reason to get involved. Still, he really liked it here. It was relaxing to be able to eat a good meal and not have to worry about them hurting him if he said the wrong thing. Obviously he was still careful with what came out of his mouth, and he tried to keep Lisa away from dangerous subjects, but that was far more laid back than normal. He wanted to come over again, not for fear of his dad, just to hang out with a friend. He felt like a normal kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments = motivation so pls leave me some, it'll make my day! I'm going to flesh out this whole thing with Len loving Mick's parents, it'll be great.


	5. En-deer-ing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len was a city boy, and proud of it, but he also really liked Mick's parents. When Mr. Rory asked if he wanted to go hunting, he was both disgusted at the idea of doing something so country, and thrilled to be included. He had to go, of course, because he wanted more than anything for Mick's parents to accept him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in July of 1987. Leonard is 15, Mick is 16.

It was mid July, and it was hot. Len had finally turned fifteen, which didn’t really mean anything, but it was a milestone nonetheless. He’d been going over to Mick’s house once or twice a week for over a month now. He didn’t actually have that many nights when he couldn’t go home, but being there made him feel good about himself. He still wasn’t strong, but he’d been able to make himself useful in other ways, mostly involving math. He came up with estimates on how much money they’d make on certain crops with prices at their current level. Actually he’d just seen the paperwork on the table and started figuring it up to see if he could, and when James Rory saw him, he’d asked him if he could run a few other numbers. It was good to feel useful.

One thing that he’d never had to put a lot of thought into before was how much his friend’s parents liked him. Now that he was in that situation, it was hard to tell. Len thought that they liked him pretty well, but he also wasn’t sure if that was just wishful thinking.

The major determining event that made him decide it wasn’t all in his head was not the multiple assurances from Mick that they thought he was great, but rather the invitation to go on a hunting trip. It would be just him, Mick, and James, for a whole weekend. Mick asked him of course, but he said that his dad was the one who suggested it.

He said yes, of course, because how could he turn that down? He’d never been hunting, but it was the kind of family activity that he’d always want to be a part of. It was like having really nice new in-laws, except obviously he and Mick weren’t married, and likely never would be. He had no indication that Mick liked him that way, and handsome though Mick may be, Len wasn’t going to push his luck and lose a good thing.

That Friday, Len picked his most outdoorsy clothes, and took the bus as close to Mick’s as he could get so he wasn’t as much trouble to pick up. They left that night so they could camp out and not have to get up quite as early in the morning.

Camping was also a new experience. He’d slept on the ground before, but never with tents and sleeping bags and all this fancy stuff. James made a joke about how this outdoorsy thing must be hard for a city-slicker like him. Len chose not to correct him by saying that he slept in parking lots sometimes and they didn’t ever have campfires or s’mores there.

* * *

 

In the morning, when they got up, James seemed to have a sudden realization. If Len was a city boy who had never been hunting, that meant he didn’t have a hunting licence, which was true. It also meant that he probably didn’t know how to use a gun. Of course, Len really  _ did  _ know how to use one. Not because of hunting, or even anything legal, but his dad thought it was important that he had another gun-savvy person with him on heists, in case something went sideways, and they had to shoot their way out. Obviously he couldn’t tell them that though, so he just assured them that he knew how to shoot without saying why. It was good enough for both of them.

They had two rifles, one for each of them, because apparently that was just what hunters used. Len was sort of expecting that to be all of their guns, since two seemed like enough, but they also had a handgun, which they gave to Len. They had it for self defense, but they figured he needed a gun too if he was going to hunt, and it would have less kickback for him. Both were of the opinion that he was too little, scrawny, and inexperienced to handle a rifle. Whatever, he was used to handguns anyway, and he’d never tried a rifle. Not good for packing on a heist.

There were a lot of things he didn’t know about hunting. For one, you couldn’t bring snacks with you, because animals could smell you. Also no talking, because they could hear you. And always stay hidden, so they wouldn’t see you. Of course, he understood why all of that was important, but it was also really boring, and he got antsy fast. They were planning on killing the animals anyway, which meant this was an awful lot of time spent considering the feelings of something that didn’t matter anyway. But prey animals were easily spooked, and if they didn’t follow the rules, they wouldn’t catch anything.

The goal in all this was to get a deer. It made sense to have a goal of what they wanted to catch, but he’d never put that much thought into it. He didn’t want to be a showoff, so he didn’t plan to even try to get anything until both of the others tried, but after enough wild turkeys (identified by Mick) passed by with neither of them firing a shot, or even raising their guns, he had to ask what was up. They explained that the hunting trip was over when they caught a deer, or sometime Sunday afternoon, whichever came faster. They wouldn’t get turkeys until they’d got the deer or were sure that they wouldn’t, because they didn’t have a cabin or anything where the meat would stay fresh and not attract predators.

Len had always thought of hunting as some kind of hick nonsense, but the more rules he heard, the more he realized that wasn’t the case. It was no carefully planned out bank robbery, but it was more complicated than he’d realized, and it took a lot of patience. He would hate to live in a world where this was the only way to get meat. He preferred the fast paced, constant activity of city life. His brain just wasn’t meant for all this quietly waiting.

Eventually they spotted one. A boy deer with antlers, which had a different name that he couldn’t think of. Mick spotted it, and silently pointed it out, and then James lined up the shot. Len noticed the interesting dynamic there, of course. Maybe Mick didn’t take the shot because his dad had better aim, or maybe it was some kind of rule they had. The sound of the shot was nearly deafening after the prolonged silence, and even though he’d been expecting it, Len jumped a little.

He looked to see if he’d hit it, but the deer had vanished into the trees. A miss. Shame, this whole sitting around thing wasn’t turning out to be as fun as he’d hoped. He hadn’t even seen the deer before until Mick pointed out, because he’d gotten bored and started spacing out. This time though, he was determined to pay more attention. When he heard a rustle, he would look, not assume that it was a loud squirrel, which it had been the first six times before he’d started spacing out before. When he felt his mind drifting, he would remind himself that he’d have to stay out here eating trailmix for another whole day if they didn’t kill a deer by tonight.

Even paying attention, it was nearly dusk by the time he saw another. They had told him when they’d driven out that dusk was the best time, and that the deer were out pretty thick. If he missed, he wondered if they would come back before dark. Maybe since there were more of them, they wouldn’t be as easily spooked. Wordlessly, he raised his gun. With how they were sitting, backs together, he didn’t even consider that they probably couldn’t see him moving. He lined up the shot, exactly how his dad had taught him, and clicked off the safety. The deer looked over at the sound. That made it a little easier to aim right at the head, since he didn’t know deer anatomy well enough to confidently go for the heart. He pulled the trigger. 

The sound made both Mick and his dad jump. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Mick hissed, apparently not caring if his dad heard him use that kind of language. Of course Len swore in front of his dad, but they didn’t live in some pretty little farmhouse in the country, and they didn’t have morals. James was a religious man.

As expected, Mick got a swat on the back of the head. “Language!”

“Sorry, forgot I was supposed to signal or whatever.” Len admitted. “Anyway, I think I hit it.”

Both of them gave him these looks, like they thought it was cute that he would even think that he’d hit one. Well, neither of them knew that he had perfect vision and excellent aim. His dad said he was terrible, of course, but he made the center of the paper targets they drew almost every time. At least twice as often as Lewis. He was only a little unsure because he’d been distracted by Mick and James and didn’t see if it fell or ran away. Regardless, he was taking none of their shit, and started walking off in the direction where he’d shot without them. They didn’t have to follow him if they didn’t want to.

They did follow him of course, because he didn’t know what he was doing, so they were monitoring him very closely. He didn’t really mind it, especially as he got closer and saw that he had, indeed, gotten the deer. First shot, first kill. That had to be impressive, right? He turned and gave Mick a smug look. Thinking he couldn’t get a deer. This was what happened when you underestimated Leonard Snart.

Looking at it once he was past all the tall grass, he saw that he’d actually hit it right between the eyes, which even he knew was a difficult feat. It was where he’d been aiming, but he wasn’t off by even a little bit. Even without being a big hunting nut, he was proud.

His pride was only inflated when James whistled. “Where did you learn to shoot?” He asked, clearly impressed. When Len had called himself competent with a gun, Mick’s dad probably hadn’t been expecting him to be any good.

“My dad is a cop, he takes me out to the shooting range sometimes,” he explained. It wasn’t a complete lie. Technically his dad wasn’t a cop anymore, and they didn’t go to shooting anywhere official, since his dad’s status as a convicted felon made it illegal for him to have a gun. None of that was important though.

It seemed a good enough reason for James, but Mick looked awfully suspicious. He knew that Lewis was a felon, and probably knew gun laws well enough to realize they couldn’t have gotten theirs legally. He wasn’t stupid, even if he pretended to be. Despite his obviously knowing that it was bullshit, he said nothing.

* * *

 

Deer meat was good. The gutting and skinning on the other hand, really wasn’t up Len’s alley. He opted out of it all pretty quick, which is to say that after they drove back to the farm and James told them what he was going to do, he excused himself to go to the restroom and didn’t come back.They drove back to the farm, with Len still feeling all happy and proud, and then James mentioned gutting and skinning in such a casual offhand way. Sure, they couldn’t eat it as it was, but the extent of Len’s raw meat experienced was the prepackaged stuff at the grocery store. Still, he didn’t chicken out immediately. Not until the smell and the blood, and then he excused himself to the restroom and didn’t come back. He just chatted with Linda until the other two men came back inside.

“Talking to mom to get out of the dirty work?” Mick sounded amused, and not irritated like he’d been worried about.

Len smirked. “You know how I feel about messes, and your mother is delightful.”

“Good answer.” Linda patted him on the shoulder, which he was gradually starting to get more used to. She was a very touchy-feely person and he hated to offend her by shying away, but he still found physical contact very unpleasant when he wasn’t the one initiating it. He had at least gotten to the point where he could accept it and put on a smile.

“She’d have to be to raise someone as great as me.” Mick gloated.

Len gave an over dramatic sigh. “Don’t think I can argue that one without being hypocritical, can I?”

Mick looked awfully pleased about it. “Nope.” 

“Shame, I love arguing.”

Linda interrupted their banter by exclaiming, “Leonard says you boys got a deer!”

“More like  _ he  _ got a deer.” James told her. “Hit it right between the eyes! He’s a regular sharpshooter, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone make a shot that clean.”

Len didn’t like this. He had grown up avoiding being the center of attention. Normally having the focus on him meant he was being hit, but somehow being showered with praise that he didn’t deserve and not knowing how to say he didn’t deserve it without being rude was worse. Then there was Mick’s obvious irritation at having his parents fawning over Len when they’d barely known him a month, and they would normally be saying these things to him him. It was all around uncomfortable.

“I’ve got lots of practice with handguns. I’m sure that if I used one of the rifles I’d have missed by like a yard. Anyway, Mick made the campfire, and he put it out without water, which I didn’t even know you could do.” He wanted to add that it was impressive that Mick put out the fire at all, and it clearly took a lot of of self discipline. Len could see the manic look in his eye the entire time it was lit. 

Mick’s parents were nice, but they weren’t very good about the whole fire thing. They always got mad when he had lighters or matches, which Len saw as a good thing, if it meant the fire was contained. He had started to gently remind them of instances when Mick put out fires without issue. It wasn’t exactly subtle, but he really wanted them to take notice of their son a little more.

Linda was clearly pleased. “Good! If there’s one thing you can teach people about, it’s fire,” she smiled at him. “And I’m glad you’re putting them out.”

Mick looked embarrassed, but also happier than he had been when both of his parents were praising Len. “Thanks mom,” he said, and there was this unshakable warm fuzzy feeling in the room. It was as close to perfect as things ever had been.

Len hated how much he loved this family. He’d barely known Mick’s parents for a month, and he didn’t really trust them, but he wanted to. He loved that they were nice to him, and that he didn’t feel threatened when he was around them. Really the only part he hated was the ridiculous longing for them to like him as much as he liked  _ them _ . It was a waste of time. Still, he knew that he wasn’t going to stop coming over anytime soon. He was too busy hoping that he could be part of their family, even if he was just pretending for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be great and I am super excited!! As always, comments are amazing and you can come talk to me at incredibly-cold.tumblr.com


	6. Angel Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len has to take an extracurricular activity for parole, and ends up in just about the least criminal one he could be in. He's just glad he doesn't have to run around getting all sweaty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know if you all know this, but Wentworth Miller has a beautiful singing voice. I couldn't resist little choir kid Len, it was just too good. Obviously not a wholly realistic vision of high school choir competition, but who cares. Also songs are KISS by Prince and Uptown Girl by Billy Joel, and if you have somehow avoided hearing them up to this point, go ahead and check them out.
> 
> This takes place in August of 1987. Leonard is 15, Mick is 16.

After a carefree summer, Len was grudgingly prepared to return to school. Part of his parole was joining an extracurricular activity, which he was less than thrilled about. Even though he’d grown over the summer (he was a whole 5’5” now,) he was still too scrawny for sports. Also, he hated running and getting sweaty. He got enough physical activity walking and biking everywhere, and that didn’t require any kind of public humiliation or paying money for a uniform.

He was left to try to pick out an activity that he wouldn’t completely hate doing. No sports really narrowed it down, and he didn’t care to spend a lot of time after school, which pretty much left him with debate, forensics, chess club, or choir. Chess club met before school, which sounded awful. Debate and forensics were technically just classes but there were more frequent competitions which still involved a lot of time outside school. He was left with the advanced choir class, which was audition only. Of course, since it was for parole, they were legally obligated to let him in, so he didn’t need to bother.

The bad thing about being in the elite choir was that they were the elite choir. Basically, that meant that every single one of them was an asshole. If any of the other choir classes counted as an extracurricular, he would have chosen one of them. As it was, he had to deal with the confusion and anger directed at him from everyone in the room. The auditions took place at the end of the previous school year which meant that every single other person was at least a sophomore, and definitely went there the previous year. They all knew each other. They also knew that he did not belong, since none of them had ever seen him before.

“Relax, I ain’t gonna to steal your arias, or whatever you’re worried about.” He assured the loudly whispering clump of singers that kept glaring at him. “I plan on doing the bare minimum and quitting at the first opportunity.” He didn’t even know how they knew he hadn’t moved from a different school where he had also been in choir or something like that. Maybe they didn’t, and felt threatened because he was good enough to get in without going through the normal process. Either way it was irritating. 

A bossy boy who he already didn’t like folded his arms and glared at him. “Why are you even in here if you don’t care about it?” he asked. He had his smug look on his face like he had proved a point with his question.

Len walked closer, until they were standing very close together and flicked his eyes down, looking the other boy over and then meeting his eyes with an amused smirk. “Part of my parole, bucko. Got a problem with that?”

His display of confidence had its intended effect, and the piece of shit backed off, looking much less sure of himself than before. By casually mentioning parole and acting like the other boy’s entire person was a joke, he had painted himself as a tough criminal, which was good. Len had figured out the whole looking down and then giving that cruel, knowing smirk trick ages ago, but he was hesitant to use it on people a lot bigger than him. It did work like a charm to make people insecure though, and it was worth it if you had some chance of beating the person in a fight. He would never try it on Mick.

Speaking of Mick, his friend would have found the fact that he was in choir hilarious. He hated to think what some people would say, knowing that he was in such a prissy activity. It was bad enough being the daddy’s boy thief, now he had this. Sure, he and his dad were involved with the Santinis, but they definitely weren’t a part of the family, and outside of mob families, doing heists with your parents wasn’t cool. 

In juvy he’d gotten to see what it felt like to have power and influence among criminals. Everyone knew that they could kick his ass, but having Mick around had kept him safe physically, and then he was able to manipulate people to get what he wanted. He had become feared even. No one messed with the person who could outwit them, and he was doing the intellectual equivalent of running circles around them. Now that he was back in school, he intended to make himself a new image as the kind of guy everyone knew not to mess with, which brought him back to choir. If a bunch of choir kids could disrespect him, then how did he plan to get a respectable reputation? He was going to be sure to keep up with his persona as much as possible. That meant not applying himself, having a bad attitude, and threatening everyone. It also probably meant following through on a few of his threats. Fortunately that was what he already did most of the time in school. 

He spent the next few minutes watching everyone, trying to figure them out. It was pretty clear which ones thought they were hot shit, and which were still getting used to the elite choir thing and looked almost in awe of the more experienced kids. He wasn’t sure that he liked any of them, but there were a few that he knew he hated. 

Finally the bell rang, and the teacher came in, and everyone sat down. Now maybe he was overanalyzing, but he thought it was a little odd that some of the people who had seemed like best friends went to opposite sides of the room, and every single boy went to the back row where Len had previously been alone. He suspected that there was some kind of seating chart that no one had told him about. He didn’t ask, since he was already in the right row.

Naturally, the teacher had to draw attention to him by asking what section he should be in, which he didn’t know the answer to. Honestly he didn’t even know what the question meant. What the hell sections was he talking about?

“The back?” he answered, uncertainly.

“No, are you bass, baritone, or tenor?”

Right, of course. He had no idea what any of those meant. “I’m just here because I have to do an extracurricular, I don’t know what that means.”

The teacher frowned and looked thoughtful for a moment. “How about you sing for us, and I’ll tell you what I think?” she asked. There was this underlying rudeness that gave Len the distinct impression that when she said she’d tell him what she thought, she really meant that she would see if he was worth having sing. If he wasn’t any good he wouldn’t sing. She didn’t need him bringing down her elite choir.

Len immediately resented her He didn’t actually care about any of this, but he didn’t like the idea of someone telling him to shut up during a damned choir class. He gave her a curt nod and went to the front of the room, racking his brain for a song he knew well enough to sing. One that he could sing well.

He came to a rest on Prince, of course, since he was his favorite, and from there picked out the song that he knew he couldn’t mess up. 

“You don’t have to be beautiful, 

To turn me on”

He sung, lower of course than the actual song. Prince had a great falsetto and all, but Len didn't think that was going to work for him. Especially if he was trying to show what he normally sang like. He didn't have any instruments backing him up to make it the poppy, catchy song everyone was used to, so he had to make it slower and a little more... Sexy. For lack of a better word. 

“I just need your body baby, 

From dusk ‘till dawn,

You don’t need experience,

To turn me out,

Just leave it all up to me,

I’m gonna show you what it’s all about.”

It was at this point that he finally looked around and noticed that everybody was stunned. They hadn’t expected him to be any good. Just because he didn’t give a shit didn’t mean he was lacking in talent, and he was glad to see the shock on their faces. It made him smile. He felt confident going into the chorus, and even decided to flirt a little. He’d chosen the the girl right in the front middle row, and decided to focus on her. He got up close and gave her that smile he’d learned that could just melt a girl and distract her from whatever he was stealing. 

“You don’t have to be rich to be my girl, 

You don’t have to be cool to rule my world, 

Ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with, 

I just want your extra time and your.” 

He spun back away, but turned  back to face her on the imaginary beat.

"Kiss." He finished, with a wink.

Maybe it was a little mean to do that to someone he was going to be in class with all year, but that adoring look in her eyes, and in the eyes of several other of the girls, was worth it. He looked over to the teacher with raised eyebrows. “What’s the verdict?”

The woman was slack jawed, and scandalized. Maybe she wasn’t the pop song and sexual tension type. He knew that she wouldn’t be able to deny that he was good. “I think you’re a baritone.” She told him, after a few seconds, and he looked back to the class with a ‘the fuck does that mean?’ face until someone pointed to the middle of the back row, which was apparently the baritone section.

In a way he felt a little better now that he’d shown off a little. At least he wasn’t getting the looks from everyone clearly thinking they were better than him. On the downside, advertising that he was a good singer would mean people had actual expectations for him. Expectations that might take effort to meet. He would just have to disappoint them.

* * *

 

As expected, Mick thought it was a riot that Len got stuck in choir. He saw the sheet music and jumped at the opportunity to tease him about it. “Tough guy over here joined the choir?” he asked. “What, couldn’t get into boxing or something you might need in life?”

Len rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. He kind of liked when Mick teased him. It was fun to be insulted in a joking way for once. “It’s for parole, jackass.”

Mick raised his eyebrows. “Can you even sing?”

He did his best to look hurt by the question. “For your information I have the voice of an angel.” He informed him, folding his arms across his chest.

“And the looks of one.” Mick chuckled. Len was caught off guard. His eyes widened and he felt his heart skip a beat, but Mick apparently didn’t think anything of it because he continued, “You’re going to break hearts.”

Len wasn’t one to read too much into anything. He was very aware of his own attraction to other men, specifically his best friend, but he didn’t talk about it or expect anything of it. After all AIDS was such a terrifying and deadly problem, and despite all the discoveries in recent years, people still called it ‘gay cancer’ and blamed it on gay men. Len had read everything he could find on the subject because he liked reading, and he cared about it since it could affect his life. Len knew the fear and panic around the subject, and he would never act on any of his feelings towards men for fear of what might happen, but when Mick said things like that, he couldn’t help the sharp pang of longing that he felt.

There was silence between them, Len uncharacteristically incapable to think of anything to say. No witty reply, or any reply at all. Mick was never all that talkative, and since he didn’t shared the same feelings, he saw nothing wrong with what he’d said. He didn’t start another conversation or anything.

“I should go home.” Len told him, trying to make his voice sound light and casual, which wasn’t really the right mood since his announcements that he was going home were usually more tense, full or dread or resignation. 

Mick noticed, of course, because he always noticed things like that. He looked at him funny, but he didn’t question him. What he lacked in book smarts, he more than made up for in understanding what people were thinking. Len had yet to see him do anything with that knowledge, but you could see in his face that he understood what was going on. 

When he answered, it was in his usual gruff way. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

Len would never admit it, but he actually liked choir. He liked the positive responses he got, and he liked that such stuck up people were forced to deal with him somewhat respectfully. Of course, he rarely did his homework, like memorizing songs, or writing papers. In any other class that would have kept him at his D average, but since most of the grade was showing up and singing in class, he had a C. It was enough to meet the parole requirement of passing the class.

It wasn’t long before competitions were happening, and he had to show up because that was another one of his parole requirements. In the advanced choir, it was a requirement that everyone had to sing a solo piece. They got to choose their own song, but Len had been learning the music by ear, not by learning to read it, so he chose a song that he already knew instead of one of the old timey ballads that most of the other kids were picking. He chose ‘Uptown Girl’ because everyone loved it, and because he thought it would translate well to a solo with piano 

Of course he did well in the first competition, and so did the rest of the choir, which meant that they all went to state. All he had to do was raise a hundred dollars for his share of gas, hotel, and food money. They left it to the students to come up with it, through money from their parents or collecting through odd jobs, which was a stupid system , since no one paid much for anything he could offer to do. Mowing lawns and raking leaves wasn’t the way to make bank. His dad certainly wasn’t going to give him any money either. He would have been screwed if not for his skills with more illegal methods of obtaining money. 

It took him one day hanging around the expensive mall out in the suburbs to get it all, and only three people’s wallets. The first had $43, the second $37, and the third had $92, which meant that he had a whole $72 to keep for himself. He didn’t like to push his luck with stealing, so he was glad that the last wallet had so much extra.

He was kind of excited to go to state. If he did well, he could even get one of the little medals that hung on the walls of the choir room. He usually wasn’t a sentimental person, but he’d also never gotten a symbol of achievement like that before. The thing he was most happy about wasn’t the possibility of achievement though, it was the fact that Mick was going to come see him perform, and he was going to bring Lisa wth him. She had wanted to go, and Mick offered to take her. Len’s grandpa had offered too, and he’d let Mick off the hook, but his friend told him that he wanted to go anyway. He didn’t explain himself, but it wasn’t the why that mattered, it was the fact that he was coming when he didn’t have to. He’d never had a friend like that before.  

Len was nervous when the day finally came. Lisa, their grandpa, and Mick, all were going to follow him so they could watch him. They were doing large ensemble first, which was in the auditorium, and even though the focus wasn’t entirely on him, he was still  nervous as hell. He knew he was a good singer and all that, but if he messed up he’d drag everyone else down with him, and his family and best friend would be there to watch him do it.

* * *

 

Large ensemble went well, kind of. Len at least had not messed up, but somehow the sopranos sped up so they were going at a different speed than the piano and the rest of the choir. They got themselves back together in two measures, but he knew they would score badly because of it. They had never done that in a single rehearsal, so he was a little pissed that the first time would be onstage while they were being judged, but he didn’t give anyone shit for it. Getting upset would imply that he cared, and even if he kind of did, no one else needed to know that.

His three guests came to congratulate him and also follow him to the correct room for his solo. They were smiling, despite how badly it had gone, but they weren’t exactly choir experts, so it didn’t raise his hopes any.

“That was a disaster,” he told them. “Never messed up like that before. Sorry it was when you were here to watch.”

His grandfather was quick to reassure him. “I thought you kids sounded great,” he said. It was sweet of him.

“It could have been worse,” Len agreed, “but it it wasn’t as good as it usually is.” He didn’t want any of them arguing to make him feel better since he wasn’t even trying to be hard on himself, so he quickly added, “Come on, let’s go find room S119.”

It turned out to be a classroom in the south wing of the school, which made sense. It wasn’t really big or small, and he had a good 30 minutes before he actually had to sing, but he did check it out between other performers. As a performer he was not supposed to watch other people who were competing, but he told Lisa, his grandpa, and Mick that they could stay and watch. They were allowed to stay as long as he didn’t. Then he went to the bathroom to change. 

The uniforms that all the boys wore was a tuxedo and red bow tie, which was fine, but it didn’t fit with him singing about being a poor downtown boy. Plus, his was ill fitting because they reused them every year and he was too small for even the smallest one. He put on his best bad boy clothes, which consisted of jeans, a white shirt, and Mick’s old leather jacket, which was now too small for his friend, but still a little big on Len. He messed up his hair a little, and finally smiled in the mirror when he was satisfied that he looked the part.

Len sat in the hall and listened to the muffled performances of two other boys, and then it was his turn. He was nervous, afraid that something would go unexpectedly wrong, but he tried not to show it. He faked confidence a lot, so he was used to it. During the short walk to the front of the room, he did his best to look comfortable with the situation, as if it was something he did every day. In fact, he had never really sang in front of Mick. Aside from the large ensemble piece, which didn’t much count since his voice just blended in with everyone else’s, he’d only ever sung obnoxiously badly along to the radio.

“You’re Leonard Snart?” The first judge verified, checking the next name on the schedule. Occasionally people got nervous and jumped the line, so it was a good idea. 

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled at her, careful not to make it look like he was mocking her, which was generally the case when he smiled at an authority figure. “I’ll be singing ‘Uptown Girl’ by Billy Joel.” He seriously doubted that anyone didn’t know who it was by, but it was what he’d been told to say, and for this at least he didn’t intend to break the rules. It did seem kind of unnecessary though since she had all this information on her clipboard. So did the other two judges, who he was sure to smile at too, in case they deducted points for something as small as that.

His accompanist was some nerdy girl in the marching band who happened to have a keyboard, and he gave her a tiny nod to start.

In the four measures before he came in, he felt himself relax a little. This was familiar. He’d practiced with her fifty times at least, and he knew the song by heart. He knew he was going to be good, all he had to do was be charming too.

“Uptown girl

She's been living in her uptown world

I bet she never had a backstreet guy

I bet her mama never told her why,

I'm gonna try for an uptown girl

She's been living in her white bread world

As long as anyone with hot blood can

And now she's looking for a downtown man

That's what I am”

He spent the first two verses on auto pilot, which still involved enough smiling to hurt his cheeks, and enough walking that he didn’t look like he was only swaying back and forth, but not so much to look like he was pacing. He’d thought of all of it, except what he was going to do to give him an extra boost of charm. Singing to one of the judges seemed a bit forward, especially since he didn’t know if they would think it was funny. Dancing with Lisa on the other hand, that might work. Who in their right mind wouldn’t think that a six year old dancing with her brother was cute? He just had to do it at the right time. 

“And when she knows what 

She wants from her time,

And when she wakes up,

And makes up her mind,

She'll see I'm not so tough,

Just because,

I'm in love with an uptown girl,

You know I've seen her in her uptown world,

She's getting tired of her high class toys,

And all her presents from her uptown boys,

She's got a choice,”

He didn’t know a good way to tell her that he was throwing her into his plan last minute, since he couldn’t exactly shout it at her mid performance, so he gave her a little nod and danced his way over to he. Thankfully she was in the front row of desks, so he didn’t have to walk behind the judges.

“Uptown girl,

You know I can't afford to buy her pearls,

But maybe someday when my ship comes in,

She'll understand what kind of guy I've been,

And then I'll win”

He took her hand on ‘win’ and held it as they danced back to the front of the room.

“And when she's walking

She's looking so fine”

She followed his lead, letting him twirl her on ‘fine,’ and even gave him three perfectly on beat twirls for it, which was more than he’d hoped for since he was putting her on the spot like this. They always danced together when they were home alone, and it helped them to stay in sync with each other even though they were improvising.

“And when she's talking

She'll say that she's mine

She'll say I'm not so tough

Just because

I'm in love

With an uptown girl

She's been living in her white bread world

As long as anyone with hot blood can

And now she's looking for a downtown man

That's what I am”

He twirled her back towards her seat, and she took the hint and sat down. He’d been so caught up in the dancing and matching Lisa’s movements that he hadn’t been paying attention to the actual judges. Looking now, they did seem pleased with his performance. Knowing that gave him a new burst of energy to finish the song.

“Uptown girl

She's my uptown girl

You know I'm in love

With an uptown girl

My uptown girl

You know I'm in love

With an uptown girl

My uptown girl”

Len felt confident in his performance, but now was the time for comments. It wasn’t a definite indicator of what he would score, but it was a good start.

“Is that your little sister?” The  judge in the middle was the first to speak, and she did not look upset, like he had feared they might be He didn’t know of any rules against what he did, but it certainly wasn’t something that people did often.

Len grinned, happy that she was not obviously upset. “Yes.”

The third judge on the end squinted at him. “This is your first time in competition, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s my first year in choir.”

“People don’t usually dance in here, and definitely not with partners during a solo.” The first judge commented. She didn’t look upset even though it sounded like she was telling him off. “I thought it was a fun change of pace.”

The third judge nodded. “I think it was the most interesting performance we’ve watched all day.”

“Now I don’t think you should be bringing your sister in on solo pieces, but I liked that you had a some movement. It was a really creative idea, and a big risk. I like your confidence, especially in a first performance.”

He wasn’t sure if it was okay to say thank you or if that would be too bold, so instead he just said. “I appreciate your feedback,” and went to wait on his score.

* * *

 

At the end of the day, he found out that the school as a whole would not be moving on. Although he himself had gotten a nearly perfect score, they did badly on large ensemble and neither the boys or girls did well enough in small ensemble to move on. By default he was stopping at state with them, and he wouldn’t deny that he was disappointed. He liked showing off at something legal and admired. 

The way Mick kept looking at him made him think that maybe he should sing more often. It was that same unadulterated admiration that he got in his eyes when he looked at fire. Len hadn’t even known that he wanted Mick to look at him like that, but damn he sure did now. 

He rode home with his friend instead of on the bus, which was a much better arrangement anyway. He almost felt bad because the only reason his accompanist had said yes to the job was because she had a crush on him, and he was just leaving. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with her, she just wasn’t his type. He preferred hard headed, strong willed people, and she never seemed to feel strongly about anything. Naturally, she didn’t get upset when he told her that he wasn’t riding the bus back.

“I thought you were kidding.” 

Mick’s voice jolted him back into reality. He’d been spacing off, watching the dark shapes of trees passing in the distance. “Kidding about what?” He asked, without actually turning away from the window.

“Having the voice of an angel.” Mick responded, as if it was very obvious what he was talking about.

That did make him turn around. “Am I more of a heartbreaker than you thought?”

“Definitely. That keyboard girl has the hots for you.”

Len grinned, “Hopefully more than just her. She’s not my type.”

Mick looked over at him and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, and what  _ is _ your type?”

“Someone wild. Maybe some criminal behavior. Can’t have much of a relationship with some goody two shoes who judges me at every opportunity.”

“Oh, not willing to change your ways for a sweet girl?” His friend teased.

Len shook his head. “I’m a thief, and a criminal, it’s who I am. I ain’t interested in anyone who can’t accept that about me. It shouldn’t be a big deal anyway, it’s not like I kill people or anything  _ really _ morally reprehensible.”

“Because stealing isn’t  _ reprehensible _ at all.” Mick teased. He liked making fun of Len for using big words.

“Yeah, whatever. You know you like me just the way I am.”

Mick grunted. “Yeah, but you ain’t no angel. I don’t care  _ how  _ good you sing.”

  
Len didn’t even mind that his friend was saying he wasn’t a good person. They both knew they weren’t really good people, but that was why they were friends. He was just happy that Mick liked his singing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is gonna be pretty dark, ngl, so I hope you enjoyed the fluff!


	7. Alexa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's summertime, and Leonard plans his first heist with Mick. Of course, it doesn't take long for things to go wrong, and now Len's gotten Mick into more trouble than he'd ever meant to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took forever! Things have really picked up with classes. Finals are in two weeks and I probably won't update before then, but I do have most of the next chapter written already. 
> 
> A couple of notes for this chapter: I know Alexa is a safety deposit box thing according to the show but I changed it a little bit because I liked jewelry store better. Also my mom worked in a jewelry store in 1989 so she told me all about the security system and let me just say it was so bad I could have heisted that shit.
> 
> This takes place in August of 1988. Leonard is 16, Mick is 18. Terry Wilkins is 19.

The school year had been long and boring, but now it was summer again, and neither Len or Mick were in juvy this time around. The days were long, and they could do whatever they wanted with their time, along as Mick finished his farm work and Len kept Lisa somewhere safe when he wasn’t around. Obviously Lewis didn’t care enough to make rules, but Mick didn’t have a curfew either. His parents just said that whatever time he came home, he’d still be up early in the morning to work. If he was tired and miserable all day, that was his choice. Of course, Mick didn’t have the best judgement, so they would stay out all night doing whatever they wanted. It was all making for the perfect summer.

Len hated being bored more than he hated almost anything. If there wasn’t something going on to constantly occupy his thoughts, then he felt lost. He got himself into risky situations just to feel the excitement of the danger. He was an adrenaline junkie. Needless to say, this whole staying out all night and not breaking the rules thing was boring as hell, and he got sick of it pretty quick. Mick was the same. He picked a few fights, and started a few fires, but that wasn’t enough for Len.

In a way it was inevitable that they would pull a job together. Len wanted a partner who he knew he could trust. Someone other than his dad, who would actually listen to what he said. Mick fit that bill. He always listened to Len, because he understood that he only gave a plan if he’d already thought it through. He calculated every eventuality and never did anything on a whim. It was part of the reason he’d only been caught the one time, because he always knew what he was doing. 

Mick had taught him so many things about hunting, and farming, and all this country stuff. Now, Len felt like it was his turn to return the favor. He would show his friend some of his own skills. A jewelry store heist was just the thing.

He had never planned a full blown break in on his own before, that was always his dad’s job.He knew plenty from watching over the years, and he was confident that he could come up with something better than what Lewis could. Obviously he’d stolen on his own plenty of times, but a real heist was way more risky than just stealing from people on the streets. It was something he wouldn’t do solo. There were too many things for one person to keep track of once the job actually went down. Now that he had Mick though, he was itching to give it a try.

The first thing he had to do was get the blueprints. It wasn’t that difficult, especially since he was usually the one in charge of getting them in the first place. Lewis always left that part to him because it was less suspicious for a kid to be getting blueprints of a jewelry store than a known felon. It was a fair point. Now that he was sixteen, he got more funny looks, but as long as he mixed them in with blueprints to other things, like fast food restaurants, it just looked like he was really into architecture.

Len had become somewhat of an expert on security systems in the past several years of pulling jobs with his dad. He had learned that most of them were woefully inefficient. They made a loud sound if someone broke a window or something like that, but if you knew response times, you could just finish the job and get out. The store they were breaking into, Alexa Jewelers, had a camera pointed at the front door, and one at the back. At night they closed the metal gate behind the glass front doors that kept people from breaking the glass and walking in. It might deter novices, but for Len it would be a walk in the park. All he had to do was cover the camera and pick the triple lock at the back door and go through the repair workshop. Honestly he didn’t understand why people didn’t rob places more often.

Leonard had never felt confident going into a heist before, but he was starting to think that maybe that had something to do with working alongside Lewis. Getting in and out seemed like it was going to be a breeze, and he’d chosen the furthest jewelry store from any dispatch location. Obviously he’d be listening to their radio to make sure no one was already nearby, but he felt good about it. Mick could carry anything heavy, and with both of them to keep watch, it wasn’t likely they’d be taken by surprise if something was to go wrong. He’d even planned it on the night of the jazz festival across town, when police presence in other parts of the city would be relatively low. He had about a hundred backup plans in case something went sideways.

Naturally, something had to go wrong, because things just never went well for him.

* * *

 

When he’d gotten out of juvy over a year ago, he had hoped he’d seen the last of Terry Wilkins. Terry was horrible. If you could put together every trait that Len couldn’t stand into one person, it would be him. He was racist and anti semitic, both of which were personally offensive for Leonard.  People usually didn’t direct their racism  _ towards _ him, because they assumed he was white but it still made his blood boil whenever he heard it. On top of that, Terry was the kind of stupid and mean that drove him crazy. Sure, Mick wasn’t a genius, and he was definitely mean, but he didn’t beat up on tiny weak kids who’d never done anything. He saved it for people closer to his size, and usually people that really deserved it. Nothing like Terry.

It was a very unfortunate surprise for him when he was grabbed and pulled into an alley, and it only got worse when he found himself face to face with the very boy who had tried to stab him the first time they met. He was terrified, but he knew that Terry would just love to see him squirm, sohe forced himself to maintain a calm expression. There wasn’t a single good reason he could think of for his old enemy to be looking for him, which meant that this might be a chance meeting turned into a murder. The thought was unpleasant to say the least. He glared at his attacker and waited for him to do something that would give him a hint. Normally he’d have made the first move, but he didn’t feel like he was in a place to antagonize at the moment.

Terry looked very pleased with himself, which kind of made Len want to knock his teeth out. He had his arm pressed Len’s throat, making it abundantly clear just what would happen if he tried to fight. The bastard knew that he had the upper hand here. In the past year he hadn’t done much growing, which meant that Len was almost the same height now, but Terry was still more muscular. Not big like Mick, but Mick wasn’t around to help, so Len didn’t like his odds. He only had the basics of fighting, and he wasn’t even great at those. He was a thief, and he tried to get out of a situation before things got physical, so he’d never felt the need to practice much. This whole incident was making him reconsider.

“Long time no see.” Terry taunted, his stinking breath wafting over Len’s face. God, he’d forgotten about the halitosis. 

Len tried not to gag. Much as he loved being irritating, he really didn’t want to piss him off right now. “Not long enough, if you ask me.”

“And here I thought we were friends.”

“Right, of course, how could I have forgotten.” He sneered. “Look, charming is  _ my _ thing. Just tell me what you want and stop wasting my time. Go ahead and take a step back too. I won’t run.” As often as he lied, he was telling the truth about that. He’d have to get around Terry to get out of the dead-end alley, and he doubted that he could make it. He wasn’t that fast.  

Terry gave him a dirty look, but stepped back. He folded his arms, looking all superior, like he always did around Len. Jackass. ”I know about your heist, Leonard,” he taunted.

Len felt like he’d just been punched. How in the hell did he know? Certainly Mick hadn’t told him, but Len couldn’t think of any other way he would have found out. It wasn’t like they’d been spreading the word about it, so what had they done wrong? Had Terry been following them? That thought was almost more terrifying that the idea that they had somehow messed up and a lot of people knew about it. There had been a year between his release and now, and there was all too much that Terry could have seen in that time. He probably even knew about Lisa.

He kept his expression neutral, with some effort. “Of course you do. Let me guess, you want a  cut?”

“Fifty percent, or I tell the cops.”

That sounded about right. God, this was irritating. He’d been planning this heist for weeks, and now Terry was going to ruin all his hard work? Obviously the cops wouldn’t have anything on him. If he walked away right now and disposed of any evidence, they couldn’t convict him of anything, and he wouldn’t be back in jail, but then he absolutely couldn’t go through with it, which meant starting over planning another one. Besides, he wasn’t sure how Terry had found out, which meant he’d probably just do this again. Len was kind of stuck here.

“Fifty percent is ridiculous. You didn’t do anything to help plan this, and I’m not giving you that much,” he sighed. He was at least certain of that much.

Terry glared and took a step towards him. “Something you don’t get? I said I’d tell the cops.”

“I understand perfectly, I’m just refusing your terms,” Len sneered. “You tell the cops and there’s no heist. I destroy the hard evidence, and whatever’s left will be too flimsy to charge me with anything. You get nothing, same as me and Mick. We can plan another one, and you can make the same threat, and we can keep doing that over and over until summer is over, or you can be smart for once in your life and negotiate.” 

It didn’t take a genius to see that the other boy was pissed, but he also knew that Len was right. He folded his arms across his chest. “Fine, I’ll negotiate.”

“Twenty five percent.”

“That’s too low!”

“It’s twenty five percent more than you’ll get if you turn us in. I think that’s pretty good. “ He didn’t actually expect Terry to agree to such a low number, but the logical place for him to argue up to was one third, which was as high as Len was willing to go. Any more and he’d let himself get turned in again and again with no real profits just to spite his enemy. He was, after all, a very petty and dramatic person. Most people told him that as an insult, but he was proud of it.

Terry glowered at him for a little while longer. “I want at least a third.”

Len tried to look conflicted, as though this was not something he was manipulating the other boy into suggesting. “Fine, it’s a deal,” he agreed once he felt a believable amount of time had passed. “Do you know the plan already, or do we need to fill you in?”

“I just know where it’s happening.” Terry told him.

Of course, just enough to be a thorn in their side. “Great, meet us at the bus stop on 6th and Main at midnight on Saturday. Don’t dress suspiciously, but avoid noticeably bright colors.” Len told him, “And no guns. If we get caught with guns, we’re really gonna be screwed.”

Terry gave him a smug smile. “I’ll be watching you. If you try to trick me, you won’t like what happens.”

Len didn’t respond, and brushed past him on his way back to the main street.

* * *

 

“You’ll never guess who I ran into today.” Len called Mick as soon as he got home to tell him about this new development. He knew it wouldn’t go over well. Mick and Terry were constantly fighting when they were all in juvy. Mick hated him with just as much enthusiasm as Len did, although he was always prepared to do something about it, while Len mostly just sat around quietly boiling with hatred. 

Apparently something in his tone gave away his hatred. “Mob guy? What’s the ones you don’t like? Darbinyans?” 

It was actually a decent guess, but incorrect. Besides, if Terry Wilkins was involved in any of the crime families, Leonard would know. He kept track of the other families just as well as he did the Santinis. Associating with one made him a target for the others, especially since he wasn’t important enough to cause a mob war if something happened to him. Mick thought it was the coolest thing ever, but he was also a country boy from a good home who didn’t understand how scary it all was. “No, not as bad as that. It was Terry.”

“Little Hitler Terry?”

“That’s the one.” He confirmed. He didn’t actually know any other Terrys, which was fine. They would all be tainted by having that name anyway. “Creep knew about our heist, so I had to let him in on it. He get’s a third of anything we get.” 

There was a pause, and Len could sense his friend’s irritation just from the way he breathed. “I hate that guy.”

“Believe me, I do too.” He snorted. Len felt like he had more reason to hate Terry in the first place, what with the attempted murder, and the offensive behavior. He certainly wasn’t doing this because because they were pals.

“Can we trust him?”

“No, he’ll sell us out as soon as he can.” That much he was confident about. Terry was about as slimy as they come. He’d been willing to snitch on his supposed friends in juvy, and he certainly wouldn’t have any loyalty to two people that he hated. “I don’t think he’d rat us out before the heist. He’ll cooperate until he gets his cut. Won’t jeopardize his money, even if he does plan to screw us over.” 

Mick sighed, long and loud into the phone, and it made a crackling sound. “You got a plan?”

He’d been running scenarios in his head for hours, and all he could think to do was bring a gun to make sure he had the upper hand. He didn’t want to use it, but he certainly wasn’t above threatening. Even then though, he had no way to guarantee that Terry wouldn’t just run to the cops as soon as they split up. The only certain way he could think of to keep him from snitching was just killing him now and getting it over with, but he didn’t want the blood on his hands. “Don’t worry I’ll handle it.” 

“Doesn’t sound that way,” His friend grunted. “We can figure it out tomorrow. I’ve got your back, Snart. If he crosses us I’ll kick his ass.”

Len knew that he was telling the truth. Hell, Mick might just beat the shit out of him unprompted. Existing and being Terry was plenty of reason to beat him up, after all. “Yeah, of course. It’s you and me.”

* * *

 

Len had a bad feeling as soon as he woke up on Saturday. He’d planned for every eventuality when it was just he and Mick, but now that Terry was in the mix, his confidence was shaken. Terry didn’t seem like the type to follow directions, which made him like an even worse version of his dad. At least Lewis had some robbery experience, but as far as he knew, Terry didn’t. Even that wouldn’t be too bad, but he also had blackmailed his way into the heist, and probably wouldn’t hesitate to betray them if something went sideways. Something would almost definitely go sideways.

Len had spent the night at Mick’s house, and they had discussed their Terry problem. Mick didn’t think it was going to be much of an issue, but really what did he know? He’d never done a heist. He didn’t know what could go wrong. Len decided it was best not to tell him that he was bringing a gun. If he could feel confident all on his own, there was no sense stressing him out more. Being stressed and distracted was what made things go wrong.

They showed up dressed like normal people. No loose fabric that might accidentally brush the wrong thing, but otherwise normal. Len had a pair of leather gloves, which he’d splurged on a while back. They didn’t get as sweaty as latex, so they didn’t slip around on his hands. All Mick had were work gloves, but they would work just fine. They spent the day hanging around in the city, waiting for it to be time. Len had rewired Mick’s radio to listen in on the cops, which didn’t go over great, but he’d promised to fix it the next day. 

All too soon it was midnight. According to the radio, there was no one nearby, so they parked a block away on a residential street, where Mick’s truck would not be associated with the crime scene, just in case. It meant a longer run back, but it was worth it if they could get away without the cops knowing their vehicle. 

Terry was at the corner, waiting, just like he said he would be. He looked like an idiot, dressed all in skin tight black. He even had his gloves on already, even though they weren’t even in the alley behind the store yet. If anyone had seen him this close to the jewelry store, they might already be in trouble. 

“I told you to dress normal.” Leonard growled, as they approached. “You were supposed to look like an innocent pedestrian. You look like a robber.”

Terry shrugged, looking completely unashamed. “I am a robber.”

There was no point in calling him an idiot if he didn’t understand why looking suspicious was a bad thing. Len pushed down his anger and walked casually around to the back of the building.The camera was easy enough to fix just by throwing a rag over it from outside it’s line of sight. There were three locks on the heavy metal door. Different brands, which meant they were slightly different to pick, but he had all he tools he needed, and he knew what he was doing. He’d made sure of that before he came here. He got out his tools and got to work on the locks, instructing the other two to keep watch. It was actually nice to have one person to look each way, but he still wished that Terry wasn’t here. It took forty seconds to take care of all three, and he went inside, waving Mick and Terry in after him.

The door shut, and he pulled out a flashlight and shined it around. They were in some kind of workshop, with different saws, wheels, and chemicals. Presumably where they made all of their custom stuff and did resizing or whatever. He made note of the blowtorch at one of the worktables, and hoped Mick wouldn’t get distracted. In an effort to draw his attention away from it, he picked up a thick silver ring band from one of the tables and showed it to him. “Check it out, don’t even have to open a display case.”

Terry looked unimpressed. “We’re here for more than a ring,” he said, as though anybody gave a shit about his input.

“Really? I thought we were just going to pawn this and split the money.” Len was getting tired of him talking at all. If he’d shut up they could all pretend he wasn’t there.

There was a safe in the corner of the room, which he automatically went to. A lot of places put the nice stuff from the display window in safes. It was a good place to start if they wanted something pricey, which of course, they did. Once that was emptied, the could go out to the main part of the store and take what they wanted. He knelt down in front of it and pulled out his stethoscope from under his shirt. He always felt a little cartoonish using one, but it really did help. He started twisting the dial to the left, slowly, and heard the tiniest of clicks. Most safes you had to spin one full circle before you got to the correct number, but not all of them, so he stayed at his slow pace for the full rotation.

“Is this going to take all day?” Terry asked loudly, and Len had to resist the urge to slap him. He needed silence for this, and if that idiot had just talked over the click then he would have to start over. 

He glared over his shoulder and kept going, but to no avail. He’d definitely missed it. After spinning the dial a few times to clear it, he started again. Opening a safe was something he’d done a hundred times, but he still had a bad feeling, even as the second number clicked and he moved on to the third. 

That was when he noticed something else. There was a red blinking light across the room, tiny and barely noticeable. Except it was noticeable, because Len was on high alert, and a red blinking light was absolutely not something that he wanted to see. He abandoned the safe and shined his flashlight at the wall, looking for something he’d missed. He knew that all they had was security cameras, it was part of the reason he’d chosen Alexa in the first place. It was going to be an easy in and out operation. So what was with the light? His flashlight beam fell upon a keypad by the door and he swore. A new security system, fucking great. 

“It’s time to go.” He told them, standing up and tucking his stethoscope back into his shirt. “They changed their security system.”

Terry scoffed, “We can’t  _ go _ , we don’t have anything yet,” he pointed out. This was exactly the kind of thing that Len had been worried about. Terry didn’t know shit, and he didn’t know when to leave.

“The cops can get here in one hundred and eighty seven seconds, and we’ve already been here for too long. It’s time for us to clear out.” He said, this time more forcefully. They had almost two minutes to make it look like a false alarm, and to get far away. That was plenty of time, but if Terry held them up, it would be a problem. 

Then Terry was dropping his flashlight and reaching behind himself, and before Len even had time to see what the other boy was getting, he was doing the same thing. Len clicked the safety off on his dad’s gun, and aimed straight for Terry. 

Len had never thought that he would be in a standoff, but here he was, gun pointed at his worst enemy, and there was his worst enemy, gun pointed straight at Mick. He was running through all the ways that this could go down. He had never meant to use the gun as more than a threat, but he also hadn’t thought that Terry would bring one too. He’d specifically said not to. Well, he didn’t know why he hadn’t expected that he’d have one anyway.

Terry was looking at him, eyebrows raised high in surprise. He’d assumed Leonard would follow his own rules, apparently. After a moment he calmed down though, and even smiled. “Put the gun down, Leonard. You don’t want Mick to get hurt.” Terry’s voice was low, and smooth. He was confident that Leonard wasn’t a threat. Only one of them had ever come close to killing someone, and both of them knew it. 

Len sighed and tightened his grip. “Why don’t you put the gun down?” He wasn’t sure if he sounded threatening or not. Could he kill someone, really? He thought that he could, if it meant saving Mick.

“We both know you don’t want to do this. Just open the safe, give me the jewelry, and we can all be on our way.”   

He considered that. To open the safe he’d have to turn his back on the enemy, give up what leverage he had. Terry couldn’t open the safe without him, but he could certainly shoot him as soon as it was open and still have the time to shoot Mick before he could do anything about it. Logically, that was exactly what would happen. Leonard considered the options. He could shoot him in the wrist and make him drop the gun, but what would happen when the police arrived? He’d rat on them for sure. Besides, the two flashlights on the floor didn’t make for good lighting, and with Terry in all black, it was hard to see anything but his head. He wasn’t sure if he’d hit, and then Terry would shoot them for sure.

They had even less time now, and then the place would be surrounded by cops. Not enough time to open the safe, and not enough time to deal with this shit. “You’re really going to kill us for whatever’s in this safe?” He asked. He already knew what the answer was.

“I don’t have to, just open it up Snart.” Terry was getting more forceful now, getting closer to Mick. His grip was all wrong, but at this distance it would be hard to miss no matter how he was holding it. Mick was surprisingly calm about it, he just watched Len. He trusted him. 

  
Len stopped thinking and pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment because it makes my day/week! Especially with Finals happening because I am extra stressed and knowing someone appreciates my hours of researching and writing is really nice.


	8. Things go Sideways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len knew that letting Terry Wilkins in on a job was a bad idea. He was selfish to begin with, and he had no reason to be loyal to Len or Mick. It was almost a guarantee that he would try to screw them over. That was why Len brought a gun, so that he had something to threaten him with. He just never thought he would fire it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in August of 1988. Leonard is 16, Mick is 18. Terry Wilkins is 19.

The gunshot was deafening inside the closed room, and it made Leonard’s ears ring. For a moment he was disoriented. He saw Terry fall, and immediately thought that he hadn’t even needed to fire his gun, since Terry had just tripped like a moron. Then he realized that he hadn’t tripped at all, he fell because he’d been shot. 

Len obviously understood that he was the one who’d shot Terry, but he didn’t really think about that. Terry had been shot, and Len had fired a gun. They were separate facts. It made it easy to keep moving with the situation. He picked up the flashlights, knowing that he hadn’t wiped his down, and old fingerprints on a flashlight was exactly the kind of dumb shit they would get caught for. They couldn’t get caught for this. 

Mick was staring at Terry’s dark shape on the ground like he was frozen, and Len grabbed his arm, but he couldn’t pull him away. This was the first time he could distinctly recall Mick’s size being a bad thing. He stopped pulling to shout at him. “ _ Move _ , Mick! We need to get out of here!” His voice seemed to bring Mick back to himself. They both started running. They sprinted out the door and down an alley toward the neighborhood where Mick’s truck was parked. They could hear the sirens now, and Len took them a few streets to the side where they wouldn’t be in the line of sight from the store. It would take the cops a minute to get inside and find Terry, and then they would be searching. He and Mick needed to be gone before that. 

They didn’t stop running until they could see the truck. Len told Mick to get in and start it, and then he hopped a fence into someone’s back yard. He knew that they had to get rid of the gun, and it seemed logical to put it on someone’s property. Police would need a search warrant if they wanted to look there, and since it was a random house with no connection to the crime, he knew they wouldn’t get one, or even think to try. He stowed his gloves and stethoscope too for good measure. Work gloves and flashlights were fine to have in a farm truck, but his gloves were too nice. They had no business in a muddy work vehicle, and he had no reason to have them with him in the middle of summer. He shoved them all under the patio steps, and hoped that a dog didn’t live here that might pull them all out.

Mick was in the car waiting for him. Thankfully he had the good sense not to turn on the headlights and draw attention to them. Len got in the passenger’s seat and they were moving before he could shut the door. Mick didn’t turn on the headlights until they got to the next intersection. Good thinking on his part. They didn’t need anyone being able to describe the mysterious vehicle spotted near the crime scene..

Usually silences between them were comfortable. Len liked that they didn’t always have to talk. It gave him time to think. This was different though, and he didn’t like it. He could feel Mick’s fear, and it was way more jarring than shooting someone had been. Fear wasn’t supposed to be something that Mick felt. He was always so tough.

They were a few blocks away when Len could no longer bear the silence. “Are you okay?”

It took a few seconds to get an answer, and even then it wasn’t satisfactory. “You shot him,” Mick said, eyebrows raised, but otherwise expressionless.

Len leaned further back into his seat. If that was the whole problem, then he didn’t want to look Mick in the eye. Sure, he’d saved him, but he had  _ killed _ a person. They were criminals, but murder was much worse morally than anything that either of them had done before. Maybe it was too much for Mick. “If I hadn’t then he would have shot you.” It was the truth, but not exactly a good justification.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mick turn his head to look at him. “You’re okay with that?”

He shrugged. “It was self defense. Besides, he probably would have killed us both nce the safe was open anyway.”

Mick grunted, but his lack of words made Len wonder if they were on the same page about all this.

* * *

They had told Mick’s parents that they were spending the night at Len’s house, which was, of course, a lie. Instead they went to his grandpa’s. Leroy Snart was more reasonable than his son. He accepted that Len was a teenager, and sometimes that meant coming home late. He obviously didn’t know about the whole robbery turned murder thing, but he wouldn’t get upset that they were coming in at almost one in the morning. 

They tried to be quiet going in, which was harder than normal because by now Len’s hands were shaking uncontrollably. It was a good thing he had the key, because he doubted that he’d be able to pick a lock in this state. He didn’t dare look at Mick in case he saw an expression that he didn’t like. Visibly shaking made him look weak, and he knew it.

Len left him in the living room without saying anything, and went to take a shower. He only realized that it was rude of him after he was gone. Whatever, no big deal. Their friendship was not based off of politeness, or even kindness. He wasn’t really sure what it was based off other than a shared criminal past.

Inside the bathroom, Len fought the urge to just lay down on the floor and stop everything for a while. That could wait until after Mick was asleep. For now he had to stay cool about all of this. He’d seen his dad shoot people before, after all. He felt like he should be more okay with this whole thing, or at least used to it all.

Leonard heard a sound like a coin falling, and looked down to see the ring from the store. It had fallen out of his pocket when he took off his jeans. He didn’t even remember putting it there. The fact that they only got this one ring was almost more depressing than if the heist had been a complete failure. This dumb ring cost a life, and it wasn’t even special. No jewels, no fancy designs, nothing. Len shook his head and set it down on the counter. Then he turned the water all the way on cold, and got into the shower.

The stinging cold was jolting. It drew him out of the confusing fog of thoughts that was clouding his mind for a minute and reminded him of days spent in his grandpa’s ice cream truck. Most people hated cold showers, but to Len they were soothing. He didn’t even wash himself, he just stood under the frigid stream and tried not to think of what Terry had looked like, dead on the floor. He was shaking from cold instead of nerves by the time Mick knocked on the door and asked if he was okay. 

Len turned off the water with stiff fingers. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a second,” he called. 

He hadn’t brought any clothes to the bathroom with him, so he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. The ring sat on the counter, drawing his attention like a magnet. He stared at it for a while, and then put it on his thumb and walked out.

Mick was waiting for him outside the door, like some kind of clingy pet, but Len couldn’t bring himself to mind it. There was something reassuring about seeing that Mick was okay. It was almost enough to balance out Terry’s dark outline on the ground, getting slowly bigger as the blood pooled around him. Almost. 

Maybe it was his current emotional vulnerability, but he felt very uncomfortable standing in front of Mick in nothing but a towel.It wasn’t like Mick hadn’t seen him naked before. There hadn’t been any privacy in the showers in juvy. This was more dressed than he’d been any of those times. Of course, neither of them had ever waited outside the door for the other to get out of the shower before either, which might have been part of the problem.

“Are you okay?” Mick asked. It seemed odd that he’d ask at all, considering their normal aversion to feelings.

Len was bizarrely amused by his concern. Len wasn’t the one who’d had a gun aimed right at him. Besides, after killing someone, it felt like his well-being shouldn’t be a concern. He was doing better than Terry, after all. “I’m fine.” He said, in a voice that he hoped sounded forceful.

His friend looked unconvinced. “You’re too quiet.”

He did not miss the implication in that statement that he normally talked a lot, but he ignored it. “So the job went sideways and I’m shaken up about it.” He admitted. Shaken up was as far as he was willing to go. He stood by his belief that this whole mess was Terry’s fault in the first place, and he deserved to die for being such a terrible person all around. He didn’t feel bad. “Is that a better answer?” 

“You killed a person, that’s gotta matter.” There was a certain amount of disbelief and fear in his eyes, and Len felt like he’d been punched in the gut. That fear wasn’t from almost getting shot, it was from watching someone he trusted kill someone in cold blood. He was afraid of Leonard.

It was time to stop denying that it affected him. He was making this worse than it needed to be. “Of course it matters. I just don’t regret it, because you deserve to live more than he did. It was one or the other.”

“That’s cold.” 

Len couldn’t help smiling at that. He had an opportunity here, since Mick had no idea about the extent of his love of the cold. He certainly didn’t know what cold showers he took. Len placed one frigid hand on Mick’s cheek. “You have no idea.”

“Goddamn Len. What did you do?”

Len was happy for the subject change. “Cold shower, they’re relaxing.”

“You’ll get hypothermia, jackass,” Mick was saying. Unfortunately Len had a hard time paying attention, because Mick’s hands had gone up his arms to his shoulders, and were now pressed against his chest, feeling how cold he was. “Take my jacket.”

The jacket was already warm, and it was soft and too big, just how he liked it. Mick wrapped it around his shoulders without giving Len the opportunity to take it himself, but he didn’t object. The warmth was actually nice, despite how much he preferred the cold. If he hadn’t shot Terry, this jacket wouldn’t be warm anymore. “You understand why I did it, don’t you?”

Mick sighed and led the way to the bedroom. “Yeah. Guess I should be thanking you ‘stead of asking why.”

Len followed him without saying much. It was true, Mick making moral judgments wasn’t helpful. It was a shitty situation, and he’d chosen the least shitty option. He wasn’t proud of it, but he wouldn’t change it either. “It’s fine. You’re still around to question my choices, I won’t stop you.”

Neither of them said much once they were in the bedroom. Len put on some underwear and a pair of sweatpants while Mick politely looked out the window. When he was done, they just stared at each other. Other than that first time, one of them usually slept on the floor when they spent the night together. Normally this was when one of them would volunteer.

After a while, Len finally spoke up. “I’m really cold. Can we share the bed tonight?” He didn’t say that he needed to feel Mick breathing, to reassure himself that he was still okay. That was too open for either of them.

“Yeah,” Mick nodded. “Don’t need you getting sick.” He didn’t say anything else, but Len knew that he understood what was really going on. He was always so perceptive about people. Len had been learning to manipulate people for years, but he still got the feeling that Mick picked up more than he did. Of course, he didn’t use it the same way Leonard did, which was good because Len would never trust someone like himself.

They both climbed into bed, with Mick stopping only to kick off his boots. He still had on jeans, but Len knew he didn’t have anything that would fit him, so he didn’t comment on it. He curled up with his back against Mick’s side and closed his eyes. It made him appreciate how Mick didn’t try to put an arm around him, or push his boundaries in any way. He left it at the physical closeness that Len initiated, and that was all. 

Time passed, and it had been at least an hour since they’d gone to bed. Len wasn’t sure if Mick was asleep or not. He didn’t know how anyone could sleep after what had happened, but Mick was quiet and still enough to be. Len, on the other hand, was still shaking. Not with cold now, he just couldn’t stop. He blamed adrenaline, but it had been long  enough that he wasn’t certain anymore. Len rolled over to face Mick, and put one hand on his chest, as gently as he could. He could feel his breathing, and that steady heartbeat against his palm, and he let out a slow breath. It was okay. They were both okay now.  

It felt weak to cry, but he couldn’t help it. He was feeling too much right now, and he didn’t understand it. The tears flowed silently, and he did his best not to do anything that would bring attention to himself. Mick remained silent, eyes closed and breathing steady. There was still no way of knowing whether he was really asleep or not, but Len would rather assume that he was. No one needed to see him like this, least of all his best friend. It would all be fine in the morning.

* * *

 

Len woke up later than normal. Too late to reasonably eat breakfast, but not so late that Mick had left him. He was right there when Len opened his eyes, using a pair of scissors to pick gravel from the treads of his boots. It was exactly the kind of gross thing that Len would usually reprimand him for but today he didn’t bother. “You think it’s made the news yet?” he asked, groggily.

Mick looked up from his boots. “You mean Terry? Probably. Think we’ll get caught?”

“Depends on him, I guess,” Len told him. “If he wrote anything down or told people he was going to be with us, then we probably will. If he was smart about keeping all that a secret, I don’t see any way they could connect us.”

“So we should hope that he was sneaky.”

“We’ll find out if he wasn’t.” Len sighed. “And if the worst happens, you bailed out before anything bad happened.” 

Len had been thinking about this all night. They were both old enough to be tried as adults. Len had gotten them into this mess. It was his idea to pull a heist, and he was the one who let Terry in on it instead of beating the shit out of him right there. Shooting him wasn’t really his fault, but the rest of it was. If one of them was going down for it, it should be him.

“You want me to let you take the fall.”  

“I planned it, I let him in on it, and I pulled the trigger. It wouldn’t be taking the fall, it’s my mess already. You don’t need to get pinned as an accessory,” he explained. “Besides, scrappy guy like me has a decent self defense case. Having a tough guy would just fuck it up and make things worse for both of us.”

 

“If I gotta go to jail to stick with you, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Len was taken aback by this declaration. If he was going to prison (it certainly wouldn’t be juvy this time,) he would much rather have Mick with him. That being said, if he were Mick, and he had the opportunity to stay out of prison, he would take it. “That’s fucking stupid.” He managed, after a few seconds of just staring at him.

Mick shrugged. “Never been that smart.”

“You’re talking about going prison with me instead of living your life. You realize that, don’t you?”

Mick looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah. Shit’s boring without you.”

It was so stupid, and actually going through with it would be so reckless, but somehow it made Len feel better. There was a very real possibility they would go to prison for this. He would have to deal with that when it happened. He had to deal with the moral implications of not feeling guilty about killing someone. There was nothing he could do to change any of that. He would have Mick though, and that was better than nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to update once a week but we'll see what happens.


End file.
